Patterns of the future
by Maradon
Summary: What if Faramir would have gone to Rivendell instead of Boromir. What would the story been like. Rated T just for case
1. Arriving

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it, they all belong to J. R. R Tolkine. Though I wouldn't have anything against it, if I owned Aragorn, Faramir or Legolas.**

**A/N: From the first time I read lord of the Rings, I wondered what would it have been like if Faramir would have gone to Rivendell instead of Boromir. Here is my adempt to answer that queston.**

**I thank my two "daughters," who encoruge me encourage to write it and read it through. With out you two, this story wouldn't be here.**

**This story is book and movie based.**

**Now enjoy and tell me if I should go on with it.**

* * *

He had done it, finally after so many years. Some would have said that he had run away from home, but no, he was thirty and six winter's old and left home to save his brother's life. He knew that he could never come home again while his father was alive. He shall be doomed if he would return. Main reason was because he was disobeying his father wishes and orders. Yes, he would never walk into Minas Tirith when his father was yet to be the Steward of Gondor.

Three weeks ago he had seen a dream about Halflings, broken swords and Imladris. He had told about it to Boromir, his trusted and beloved brother. Few nights later Boromir had also seen that dream. It crossed Faramir's mind that Boromir had never seen predicting dreams. So he must have seen the dream because of Faramir had seen it first. That actually didn't really matter; most important was the subject itself. They had to do something.

They went to their father who told them that Imladris was Rivendell, the home of Elves. Faramir wanted to go, but Boromir had decided that the quest was too dangerous and he should go instead. Their father had agreed, but not because he thought it to be too dangerous but because he knew that Faramir was the student of Mithrandir. His father didn't trust that wizard.

Faramir had agreed. He had been disappointed but respected his fathers wish.

Two nights ago Faramir saw a dream of Boromir's death. It had been so real. He had stood there watching his brother dying with three arrows in his body and he could not do anything about it. He had told about the dream to Boromir, but his older brother didn't listen, laughing that he was invincible and was still going.

So Faramir had decided. To save his brother he had to risk his life, leave his home forever. So the night before Boromir was leaving Faramir wrote him a letter that he had seen the dream again. He just couldn't let his brother die, without him doing anything to prevent it. He told him that he was going to Rivendell instead. If their father shall ask, it was Boromir who had seen the dream, not his little brother. Their father would believe Boromir explanations more and would be contented that his favourite son shall live.

Faramir knew even after Boromir's explanation that his father won't be happy that it was his younger son, the pupil of wizard who went to seek the answer. Faramir didn't want to leave, knowing that he won't see his brother and city again. No, he will see his brother again. He'll find a way to see his brother and deliver him the news from Lord Elrond. He will find a way to save his city and Boromir whatever it takes.

Faramir sneaked out of Minas Tirith under the shadows of moon. He took with him only his trusted steed Menenor, who he himself had raised and trained since Menenor was born. And also his sword Larsian, what Mithrandir had given eleven years ago. Mithrandir had taught him for fifteen years and in the end of their teacher-student relationship had given him the Larsian. The sword had protected him against many dangers and had saved his life for countless times. A year later Mithrandir had told him what the words on Larsian meant. They were written in Quenya and said: _I'm Larsian, I protect and serve the one who is loyal_.

He didn't take anything else, he didn't see the point. He left his life behind so there was no point taking something from that life with him, except his horse, sword and arrows and bow on his back. He had always been a better marksman than a fighter.

And so Faramir was on his way, he could see last climbs of Minas Tirith, how the rising sun gilded over the white city. He looked for the one last time to imprint the image to his mind forever, the beautiful city he could never return to.

It was three months since he had left Minas Tirith. He had travelled along the roads that were forgotten. He almost lost Menenor while crossing the Greyflood at the ruined city of Tharbad where the bridge was broken. Faramir's horse had injured his left back foot and Faramir didn't want to leave him. The horse was the only friendly being he had in his life left. So that's why it had taken Faramir so long to reach to Rivendell.

Now finally he saw the forests of Rivendell, they were exactly like Mithrandir had described. The forest was beautiful, magnificent and even from distance he could feel safety and peace from it. He understood why it was called the last Homely house. He felt safe, like he hadn't felt for years. At home he always feared what would happen if he disappoints his father. He led Menenor towards the woods. It was quiet afternoon, the best time of the day and Faramir was happy.

"Halt!" Faramir found an arrow aiming at his face. His way blocked a tall elf, over six foot tall with golden hair, "Who goes there and what business to you have in Imladris."

"I'm Faramir son of Denethor from Gondor and a friend of Mithrandir. I came to seek Lord Elrond council."

"How do I know that you're not lying?" the elf asked and at the same time lowered his bow.

"But how otherwise I would know that you are Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin, chief of the House of the Golden Flower, the Balrog slayer; the adviser of Lord Elrond and the defence chief of Rivendell."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrow, but lowered his bow. "In that case, welcome to Imladris. Come, I'll show you the way to the last Homely house."

They walked in silence for some time. Faramir was pleased they did, he could look and enjoy beautifulness and peace of Rivendell. At the same time when thinking those thoughts, he felt Glorfindel's eyes on him. He knew soon the question shall come. Glorfindel may be a patience elf, but not enough to hold the question until Rivendell.

He didn't have to wait long: "Why are you guiding your horse, I know it's not from the respect towards me?"

"He's injured," Faramir explained, "I almost lost him on the bridge of Tharbad, when it collapsed under us. I couldn't leave him behind to die. He has been my constant companion for these past five years. I have trusted my life to him and that means he should trust his life to me. Rohhimirs always say: 'When you trust your horse, you're safe to ride, when your horse trusts you, there isn't a place he wouldn't ride with you."

"The Horse lords have always been knowledgeable about these things. I know how you feel, I would never leave my horse behind either." They kept on walking, sometimes talking, sometimes enjoying the silence. Half an hour before they reached to the house, Glorfindel asked a question that surprised Faramir. "Would you mind if I sing?"

"No, of course not, sing master elf." Faramir had always wanted to hear elvish songs. So next half an hour Faramir spent his time enjoying cheerful wandering songs. Glorfindel sometimes translated them to him, but most of the time Faramir tried to understand them on his own, Mithrandir had taught him a little bit of elvish tongue. When they reached to the house Faramir's eyes widened, the home of Lord Elrond was beautiful, elven workmanship was magnificent. Minas Tirith was one of the beautiful sights he had ever seen and Rivendell was an equal match to it.

In front of the house stood a tall elf. He was few centimetres shorter than Glorfindel, with dark hair and with a frown on his face.

When Faramir and Glorfinder reached him he raised an eyebrow, "Glorfindel, are you planning to scare away all our guests, your singing is as bad as a Balrog's breath."

Faramir could see a mischief smile forming on Glorfindel's face, "A Balrog's breath? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," the elf rolled his eyes; Faramir didn't know that elves also do that.

"You're already to full of yourself. Who is your companion, who had to put up with your singing?"

"This is Lord Faramir son of Denethor, from Gondor. He seeks Lord Elrond council."

"Welcome to Imladris Lord Faramir. I'm Erestor, seneschal of Imladris and advisor of Lord Elrond. Your room is already waiting for you."

"Thank you, Lord Erestor, but first I should see to my horse."

"Don't fret about your horse, Lord Faramir. Glorfindel can take care of him." Faramir looked at Glorfindel who had an eager face hearing that he could take care of such magnificent animal. If Faramir didn't know who the elf was, he would have though him to be a young elf who had just passed his elfling years. But it was Menenor who had a problem with the plan. He nudged Faramir's shoulder and whined with discontent.

Faramir scratched him behind his ear; right from the spot Menenor liked it. "Don't worry, my friend, believe me Lord Glorfindel will take good care of you. I think he will be at it even better than me. Nothing will happen, I will be close, don't worry." That was reassurance what Menenor needed and he followed Glorfindel.

Erestor showed Faramir to his room, "Your bath is ready; when you're finished I'll lead you to Lord Elrond."

"Thank you, Lord Erestor, I'm very grateful."

"It's the same respect we show to our other guests. In this house there is no need to wear a weapon, so you can leave them here." Faramir bowed in acknowledgment.

Hot water felt so good. Faramir could feel every sore muscle in his body, the life felt good after so long time. Finally he could scrub of all the dirt from the travel.

Just when he had finished dressing Lord Erestor stepped in again; "Follow me, Lord Elrond is waiting for you."

Erestor guided him through the house. It looked as magnificent from the inside as outside. Erestor showed him to room with big open windows. There stood an elf, he looked young but his face showed years of wisdom.

"Lord Faramir from the house of Hurin," Erestor declared and stepped out of the room.

"Welcome to Imladris, Lord Faramir. I'm Lord Elrond."

"It's good to be here finally."

"Faramir, it is good to see you again," Came a voice from the corner of the room. Faramir turned there, "Mithrandir, I hoped I'll see you here."

Gandalf threw his favourite Denethor son to a hug, a human gesture. Who would have seen it would say that Gandalf had spent to many time with men and hobbits. "It is good to see you, but I'm surprised, I would have thought that Denethor would send Boromir to a quest of advice."

"So was decided, Boromir was the one who was suppose to come, but two days before his departure I saw a dream of his death. So the night before his departure, I left him a letter and sneaked out of Minas Tirith."

"But that means you went against your father orders."

"Yes, I can't return to Minas Tirith until he's alive or it will cost me my life." There was a long silence after that sentence. Elrond and Gandalf had their own suspicions about Denethor, but they didn't share those right know with his youngest son.

Elrond turned to his guest, "What is the advice you came to seek from me, Lord Faramir?" Faramir told them about his dream, about the fears and what his father thought about it.

"Well, Lord Faramir you have a perfect timing. Because tomorrow I'm holding a council, where are representatives of all the free people of the Middle-Earth. There will you find all the answers you need."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond." Faramir rose from the chair he sat.

"There is no need for gratitude, Lord Faramir, I am always willing to give a helping hand. The time is getting late and you must be tired and wish for a comfortable bed to sleep in."

"Yes, it's a one thing I have missed."

"Mithrandir told me that you love reading. My library is always open to you; Lord Erestor will show you where it is."

"Thank you again, Lord Elrond, I appreciate it."

He bowed and left two of the wisest in the Middle-Earth. Before he was out of ear shot he could hear their conversation.

"His coming here has set in motion a new future."

"Is it good or bad?"

"I don't know yet, some parts of the patterns of future are changing. They are still shadowed and some patterns are yet not weaved, so I don't see the end yet. But the things I have seen, tell me that the hope is growing. The men aren't as weak as I thought."

* * *

It had been three hours since Faramir had gone to bed, but the sleep hadn't found him. Maybe it was the adrenaline what hadn't left his body yet, or maybe he was use to cold hard ground, not the bed. He knew only one thing that could help him to get some sleep.

He dressed and went to search the library. He could only imagine how much knowledge was hidden in the books of Lord Elrond. Rivendell was quiet and peaceful at night. Faramir had thought he wouldn't find that kind of peace anywhere after his mothers' death. He wished to stay in Rivendell forever.

He stopped. This wasn't the library; he had taken a wrong turn somewhere. In front of him stood a woman's statue that held a tray, there were pieces of sword on it. Faramir could see something from corner of his eye. He turned and saw mural of Isildur, who was ready to cut of Saurons finger with his fathers sword.

"So this is the sword that was broken, from my dream. Elendil's sword Narsil, how stupid I can be that I didn't figure it out," He stepped respectfully towards it, "You should be forged again and rest in the hands of a king. He should come and reclaim the throne and bring glory and happiness back to Gondor. But my father would never let it happen." He stepped back and then saw a man sitting on a bench few meters away and reading a book. Faramir was taken aback, he felt like he had seen that man before, like they had met. That man was so familiar to him. He shook his head, no it couldn't be. He walked away to search the library.


	2. Many meetings

**A/N: Here you go the second chapter. I'm sorry it took me so long to update it. But right now I'm writing my bachelor's thesis and I have discovered that Lord of the rings fan fiction is much harder to write than I thought. So to remind you this story is book and movie based.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it; they all belong to J. R. R Tolkien**

**Maradon**

* * *

It was two hours past sunrise. Strange, usually he woke up with the sun. He had slept well and that already was unusual, because he hadn't had decent night sleep since his mother's death.

He sighted. It was too early from dark thoughts, especially in the place like Rivendell.

His stomach rumbled, demanding food. Faramir hoped that the time for breakfast was soon, but before that he had to do something and he was already late. He dressed himself and grabbed two apples from the tray from his room.

The day had already started at Rivendell: he could hear Lord Erestors instructions from the dinning room and Lord Glorfindels teasing remarks towards proper and serious seneschal of Imladris. Faramir had hard time not to grin, it reminded him so much of him and Boromir when their father wasn't near.

Faramir felt fallen leaves beneath his feet when he neared the stables. Autumn was his favourite time of the year, even when everything was dying; he found beauty in the colours and peace in the wind that was growing stronger and colder everyday. When he neared the fence, what rounded the stable, he heard a whine. Menenor had heard him approaching and had come out of his stall.

"How are you, my friend, on this fine morning?"

He didn't get a joyful nicker from his horse, but affronted whine. Menenor's ears where led back and his eyes full of pain.

"I'm sorry, Menenor, that I'm late, but I hadn't slept so well in years." He scratched the horse behind the ear. Menenor's ears turned forward, his nose found its way to Faramir's pocket.

Faramir held back his smile, "So for forgiveness you want that apple in my pocket?"

Menenor snorted and nudged Faramir's shoulder at that Faramir laughed out loud.

"Here you go," he dug out one of the apples he had taken with him, "Can I now see your leg?" Menenor munched on his apple and turned so that Faramir could see his injured leg.

"You are heeling well, my friend. Soon we shall ride as free and as wild as the children we once were."

"I think your horse has never seen you as a child, Lord Faramir." Faramir raised his eyes from Menenor's leg. Glorfindel had come to the stables and Faramir hadn't heard him nearing.

"Good morning, Lord Glorfindel, it's just a sentence my brother likes to say, but he says it differently."

"Morning Lord Faramir. How would you brother say it then?" the elf asked.

Faramir smiled remembering his older brother and his cocky ways, "Little brother, soon the doom that have been shadowed our doorstep will be vanquished and we will ride on Ithilien as free and as wild as the children we once were."

"Your brother seems to be like a person worth meeting one day."

"You would have almost met him; he was the one, who should have been here, not me. And please don't call me lord; people close to me call me Faramir. I'm no lord anymore. An exiled person doesn't have the comfort to be a lord."

"So the story is true what Erestor told me. You really can't go back to Minas Tirith or you shall lose your life." Glorfindel patted Menenors nose.

"Yes that is true. That is my father's law, going against his orders means a treason and punishment will be death or exile. There is no exception to his sons. My life will be over when he finds me wandering in the streets of Minas Tirith."

"Your father rules rough-hand."

"And with a principle, but his mind and heart are clouded by shadow and doubt. He has forgotten that people of Gondor look up to him. His weakness is affecting them. Gondor is growing weaker."

"The world is on the edge of a war. The shadow is trying to find its way to the hearts and minds of the best and strongest of the Middle-Earth." Glorfindel sighed. He had seen this before.

Faramir found little comfort in that sentence. He had understood already in early age that even the strongest and the best people weren't always strong enough to stand up to dark shadows.

He's thoughts were interrupted by the hoof steps. He turned and his mouth fell open. A beautiful white horse came towards them.

Glorfindel stepped beside him, "This is Asfaloth, my trusted steed."

"He is gorgeous, Lord Glorfindel."

"Yes he is, but there is no lord, people close to me call me Glorfindel."

"Glorfindel," Faramir bowed with respect.

They worked with their horses in silence; the world was peace itself for them. There were no predicting dreams, nazguls couldn't enter into the borders of Rivendell and the council was far away from their thoughts.

Glorfindel looked up to sky, "Soon it is time for breakfast, we should go and get ready. It is best if we are not late or Erestor won't be pleased with us."

Faramir patted Menenor's back one last time and gave him the other apple, "You mean he won't be pleased with you?"

"You learn fast, son of Denethor." Faramir only grinned at that and let Glorfindel show the way to the house.

* * *

When Faramir stepped into the dinning hall there were only three places empty. An elf leaded him to a place between two other empty chairs. He looked around the table. Elrond sat in the head of the table, he looked still young but something had changed over the night; he seemed more tired. It was like all the worlds troubles were on his shoulders. On his left sat Erestor and on his right sat Glorfindel. All three were in deep discussion. Next to Glorfindel sat two elves dark-haired but faces so similar that you couldn't make any different between them. They must be Elrond twins Eledan and Elrohir, two fierce warriors and pranksters. Maybe he should tell them that Mithrandir was still angry at them for the time they but his beard on fire. But where was the fun in that.

Beside them sat Mithrandir, his old friend and teacher. Even, if Mithrandir himself said that he hadn't been good a teacher. Not spending enough time in Minas Tirith. And every time he was there he hadn't had the time to teach and share all of his knowledge with the young son of Steward. He only guided young Faramir into the right direction and everything else was Faramir's own doing.

Beside Mithrandir sat three Halflings. First was young, dark-haired but seemed like he just had recovered from a very bad illness. Next to him was an older one, his hair were grey and face wrinkled but from his eyes shone youthfulness and wish for adventure. Beside the old one sat another young Halfling; his hair was ginger and face full of happiness. Beside the empty seat to his right sat old dwarf. Years had worn a hard path on his face. Next to him sat a younger dwarf. From just glancing at them you could see that they were father and son, younger one didn't have the deep lines on his face but they will come in time.

Then he saw the man he had seen last night: he sat beside the young dwarf and an elf – who was tall and young with blond hair, his hands seemed strong like he knew how to handle both sword and bow. And again seeing the man he felt the familiarity, like he had met the man before, and yet he knew that had never happened. Suddenly there was meal on his plate. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't seen when his two tablemates had joined the table. They where two Halflings, both young ones, they talked to the Halflings across the table.

Faramir was on his second bite when the Halfling on his left spoke, "Hello, I'm Peregrin Took."

"And I'm Meriadoc Brandybuck." The Halfling on his right quipped.

"But our friends call us Pippin…"

"…and Merry,"

"Nice to meet you, I'm Faramir son of Denethor."

"No nickname?" the one who was called Pippin ask.

"Pippin," Merry scolded.

Faramir only laughed, "It's all right. No, I don't have a nickname. If you don't count that my older brother called me Fara in my childhood."

"No that's not it."

"I have to agree with Pippin, Fara is not good enough nickname for you."

"Then let's make a deal, I call you Merry and Pippin and you can call me Faramir, until you think out a better one for me."

"Deal!" said both Halflings. They ate in silence, when suddenly Pippin asked, "You were the man who arrived last evening."

"We were on the balcony, we saw you coming accompanied by Glorfindel." Merry joined with Pippin.

"Yes, it was me."

"From which place of Middle-Earth are you, I and Pippin are from Shire."

"I have heard of that place, but never been there. I'm from Gondor one of the free lands of men."

"One of the free lands of men?" Pippin asked with interest.

"Yes, there is Gondor, my home. Once it was a Kingdom, one of the mightiest of them all, but line of kings went hiding from the dark lord and Gondor is now ruled by a steward. Then there is kingdom of Rohan, the country of the horse masters."

"Horse masters?" Merry's ears perked up.

"Yes, people of Rohan have lived all their lives with horses. They are a part of the Rohhimirs like pipe weed and eating is part of you. Then there is the Anor, once a sister kingdom to Gondor. Your home Shire is one part of Anor but it lost her king as Gondor did."

"But if the Gondor line of Kings will come out of the hiding, then Anor will have its king also?"

"Maybe, time can only tell." Faramir answered with sight.

After the breakfast, when Faramir walked back to his room, he thought that he hadn't had such enjoyable tablemates in a long time. But he couldn't understand how one could eat so much. If he would have eaten so much he wouldn't definitely have grown only in height.

The Halfling had tried to tell him something about second-breakfast and Luncheons. But Faramir couldn't apprehend all those eating times.

He had read two pages of the book, when the gong of Elrond council rang. He was half through the corridor to the council when he saw Mithrandir and the older and dark haired young Halfling,

"Mithrandir."

"Faramir, how to you like Imladris?"

"Imladris is as safe and peaceful place as you told me."

"Good, good. Faramir, I'd like you to meet Bilbo and Frodo Baggins."

"It's nice to meet you, Masters Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, I have heard so much about you from Mithrandir."

Before Bilbo or Frodo could answer him someone pumped into his shoulder.

"I apologize; I was standing in your way." Faramir turned to the person behind him. There stood an elf.

"There are no apologizes needed." But you could feel an edge in that sentence.

"Oh, Legolas, I'll like you to meet Faramir son of Denethor from Gondor, and Faramir this is Legolas Greenleaf from Mirkwood."

"It's an honour to meet you Lord Faramir." But he edge was still there, like he wasn't very happy over the introduction.

"The honour is mine, Prince Legolas."

"How did you know my position?"

"Not all the men are ignorant of businesses of the other races, prince Legolas." Faramir said and walked away.

"You handled that well, Faramir." Mithrandir said when he reached him.

"Well I had a good teacher." Faramir quipped.

"What was that all about?" Bilbo asked.

"The Father of Legolas is Thranduil, he doesn't like Men, and he accuses them of being weak. He fought beside the men in the last Great War. But after Sauron was defeated he returned to his home to Greenwood. It was conquered by spiders and he blames the men for that. And the reason why, you shall find out soon."

"So Legolas has been influenced by his father's beliefs?" Frodo looked over his shoulder where Legolas was walking with Erestor.

"No, but Legolas don't trust men, especially Gondors men. There is only one man who Legolas fully trusts. You know that man well."

Faramir wanted to ask, who that man was. Before he could, they reached to the balcony and were showed to take their places on the different seats.


	3. Council

**A/N: Hey, I'm sorry I haven't written another chapter for almost free months. I had to write my bachelor's thesis and then my graduation and finally I had family problems et cetera. But know I have some free time coming and I promise to write next sooner. But its Murphy when you know you have free time, there usually isn't.**

**But know enjoy the chapter and remember this fanfic is based on book and move.**

* * *

Faramir looked around the balcony; his eyes pierced everyone entering the room and followed them to their seat. To his great surprise, he had been seated right across from Gandalf, Elrond, Grofindel and Erestor, the wisest of the Middle-Earth, and between the Elves and the Dwarves. At least someone had had _some _sense and seat two other elves between him and Legolas. He didn't have anything personally against the elvish prince, but he knew of prince's dislike of _him_ and his family.

Faramir suddenly understood that he had been staring at Legolas, so he quickly turned to the other side, hoping Legolas had not noticed. When his gaze quickly rolled over the crowd, he saw _him_. There he was again, _that man_, but he couldn't place him. Where had he seen him? He knew that man, but how? He tried to concentrate and find the answer from back of his mind, but he could not figure it out.

His thoughts were interrupted, when Elrond stood up: "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate – this one doom."

Elrond's eyes were full of wisdom and mystery, full of ancient wisdom people did not understand and were intimidated by; he slowly gazed over everyone gathered there, almost as trying to see into everyone's soul and to understand everyone's thoughts. Elrond introduced everyone who had gathered there and it soon became obvious that they all were Middle-Earths important persons. While Elrond was moving from one to another, Faramir was impatiently waiting until he got to the man he had been looking at, "This is Aragorn son of Arathorn chieftain of Dunedain." Faramir felt how his eyes widened and brows rose. Chieftain of Dunedain… it couldn't be, it couldn't. The Dunedain were the descendants of Numenor, like the house of Hurin, they were the men of Arnor, if he was the chieftain of Dunedain then… then he was – no but it could not be, that line had already broken, the hope from that side was fading…

He shook his head, as if trying to erase these thought from his mind; he needed to stop falling into his thoughts, he had already missed some of the council. He was only barely paying attention to what had been going on in the council, until they started to listen to Gloin's tale how Dark Lord's servant came to Dain offering friendship and rings as he had many years ago, and then he started questioning Dain about hobbits and their kind and where they dwelt. The messenger offered power to the dwarves that they once had had, Dain hadn't said yea or nay. Later they heard that Sauron's servant had gone to talk to king Brand in Dale, offering the same and Brand had refused.

Then Elrond told them the tale how the rings were forged, the tale of he rise of Sauron and the war of the rings and the search for the ring of power after it was lost. He spoke about Numenor its glory and fall, return of the kings of Men to Middle-Earth out of the deeps of the Sea, born upon the wings of storm. Then Elendil the Tall and his mighty sons, Isildur and Anarion, who became great lords; and the North-realm they made Arnor, and the Shout-realm in Gondor above the mouths of Anduin. But Sauron of Mordor assailed them, and they made the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, and the hosts of Gil-Galad and Elendil were mustered in Arnor. He spoke about the battle of Dagorland, where Gil-Galad died, and Elendil fell, and Narsil broke beneath him; where Sauron was overthrown, and Isildur cut the ring from his hand with the hilt-shard of his father's swords, and took it for his own.

Faramir could imagine how Boromir would have reacted to this. He would be surprised, because he never listen Mithrandir's stories, so he wouldn't know the true story of the ring and how it was lost.

But before Faramir could again get lost in his own thoughts, Lord Elrond started to speak of Gondor: about her beauty, her strength, about Osgiliath, Minas Ithil and Minas Anor – The Citadel of Stars, Tower of the Rising Moon and Tower of the Setting Sun. About the White Tree, which parent was a tree from Numenor and before that whose seed was taken from Eressëa. Then he spoke how the line of Meneldil son of Anarion failed, and the tree withered, and the blood of the Númenoreans became mingled with that of lesser Men. Then he spoke how the dark things crept back to Gorgoroth. And on a time evil things came forth, and they took Minas Ithil and abode in it, and they made it into a place of dread, and how it became called Minas Morgul, the Tower of Sorcery. Then he told how Minas Anor was named anew Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard. Faramir heard how his beloved land and people were always at war and keeping the passage of the River from Argonath to the sea. When Elrond was finished he stood, tall and proud before them.

"Let me speak Lord Elrond, because from Gondor I come from. I should know the best, because she's my home, and I am the son of the steward. I could start telling you how the blood of Numenor is not spent, nor all its pride and dignity forgotten. I could tell that because of us the wild folk of East are still restrained, and the terror of Morgul kept at bay. But I would speak wrongly because Gondor is growing weaker and with her all her people. The day that the river passage is taken is not far away. The Dark Lord is awakened, he has reached his shadows over Gondor, and he is playing with our minds, with our wishes and with all our men's weaknesses." Faramir stopped; he needed some air, it was hard to admit the truth. He, a son of the steward from the House of Hurin, had to swallow down his pride and admit to what he saw.

"The Nameless Enemies power is growing smoke rises again from Orodurin. He has driven away our people from Ithilin. But in June this year a war came upon our land. The Dark Lord has allied himself with the Easterling and the crule Haradrim; but not the number of our enemies was the reason we were defeated. There was a power no one of us had ever felt. Wherever he came madness filled our foes and fear crept thru our bodies, so that horses and men gave way and fled. Only four of us came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath. I was in the company who held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us: my brother and myself and two others, were saved by swimming. But still we try to fight, try to protect what is left to protect, but soon, I am afraid, the Gondor will fall.

"In these shadowy times I have come on an errand over many dangerous leagues to Lord Elrond: a hundred and ten days I journeyed with my horse Menenor. But you know, Lord Elrond, I don't seek allies in war, but counsel. One night a dream came to me, in a troubled sleep, next night it came to me again. In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:

_Seek for the sword that was broken:_

_In Imladris it dwells;_

_There shall be counsels taken_

_Stronger than Morgul-spells._

_There shall be shown a token_

_That doom is near at hand,_

_For Isildur's Bane shall waken, _

_And the Halfling forth shall stand. _

"Of those words, my brother understood nothing, I, only a little, and we spoke to our father Denethor, who we always thought to be wise, he said to us that Imladris was Elven name to Rivendell. I wanted to come, but my brother thought that the journey here was too dangerous and asked permission from our father, who agreed with a little loath. Two days before my brother was supposed to leave, I saw a dream of him dying. He was attacked by many, he fought them all, but they were creatures so vile, so evil yet powerful; they where nor Men, Elves or Orcs, they where Uruk-Hai. In the dream, my brother died of three arrows in his body. When I told about the dream to Boromir, he didn't believe me, he was still coming. Next night, I saw the dream again. That time I knew what I had to do. I packed my things, left him a letter and came myself. I have journeyed for days, seeking house of Elrond, only for guidance. Here I am, humbly asking your advice."

"And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you," said suddenly Aragorn, standing up. All the eyes in the room were now fixed on that strange guest. "You have seen the sword that was broken; it lies on its balcony. It's the sword of my ancestors."

Faramir was not surprised, but took one deep breathe, he had been correct, "So you are the Isildur's heir, as I suspected."

"That he is, descended through many fathers from Isildur, Elendil's son of Minas Ithil." said Elrond.

"Then it belongs to you and not to me at all!" Faramir and others at the council looked quickly towards Frodo, who had cried out these words.

"It does not belong to either of us," said Aragorn; "but it has been ordained that you should hold it for a while."

"Bring out the Ring, Frodo!" Faramir was not only one confused with these words said out by Gandalf. He was quickly looking at him and then again at Frodo, "The time has come. Hold it up, and then I hope Faramir will know if he had guessed the riddle correctly."

Faramir hold his eyes on Frodo as everyone else in the room. The ring gleamed and flickered as he held it up before them in his trembling hand.

"Behold the Isildur's Bane!" said Elrond.

"The myths of old time are walking on the land: Halflings, the sword that was broken, Isildur's Bane and Isildur's heir." Faramir looked with amazement and little doubt in his voice at Aragorn.

He saw how Legolas started to rise but Bilbo was ahead of the elf:

_All that is gold does not glitter,_

_Not all those who wander are lost;_

_The old that is strong does not wither,_

_Deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_From the ashes a fire shall be woken,_

_A light from the shadows shall spring;_

_Renewed shall be blade that was broken:_

_The crownless again shall be king._

"Not good perhaps, but to the point – if you need more beyond the word of Elrond. If that was worth a journey of a hundred and ten days to hear, you'd best listen to it." He sat down with a snort and whispered something to Frodo.

Faramir felt how blush crept to his face, "I meant no offence, Master Bilbo. But I never thought that my eyes would ever see the myths, I thought that I die before this time." He saw how Aragorn smiled at Bilbo and then he turned to him. "Little do I resemble the figures of Elendil and Isildur as they stand craved in their majesty in the halls of Denethor. I am but the heir of Isildur, not Isildur himself."

"I ask your forgiveness for doubting, Lord Aragon, even if you already have given it to me. I am still the son of the house of Hurin, it is known that we sometimes say and act before we think." Faramir lowered his head in apology.

"Already forgotten, Lord Faramir," When Aragorn called him lord, it stung, he wasn't lord anymore, being called that by the man who could be the next king of Gondor, if Faramir's father let him, hurt. Because Faramir could not serve the man, the king with a dignity, like the sons of Hurin should. He was the exiled son of a steward, he knew that, all the hope for him to be the worthy man to serve the king, were lost.

Despite Faramir feeling uncomfortable, the council carried on. Bilbo told his tale how he found the ring, and how it kept him young and then Frodo reluctantly told what had been happening since he was the carrier of the ring.

Then it was Gandalf's turn, to tell how he was wrong about Saruman, how the threat of the Mordor grew; how he fully trusted Aragorn, the heir of Isildur; how Denethor did not let him see parchments in Minas Tirith's Library; and how after that he got Faramir into trouble by persuading him to sneaking him there. He also shared what he found about the ring, when he had finally found the text what Isildur himself had written. Faramir felt how death was quashing his heart, when Gandalf spoke the dark tongue. He had heard orcs speak it before but he had never heard anyone so powerful speak it. Gandalf spoke how he had gotten more information from Gollum. Aragon informed them that there was no mischief to be waited from Gollum, because he was in prison, that what ever evil errand Gollum was given in Mordor was stopped by the imprisonment. But Legolas broke all hopes, telling that the creature had escaped.

Then Gandalf spoke about his imprisonment by Saruman and how he escaped with the help of Gwaihir. He told the council how he had taken one of King Theoden's best horses and his fears about Rohan paying the tribute to Mordor. This caused many members of the council starting to get livelier and making loud and clear what they thought. Aragorn doubted in those fears, so did Faramir. "It can not be," Faramir said quietly, but all the room heard him, "I know the men of Rohan, even if the shadow has reached them, no man of Rohan will give freely a horse to Mordor, they love them as much as their own kin. Not without a reason because they bring the horses for the Riddelmark from the Northern fields where the shadow does not reach, the horses as their masters are descended from the free days of the old, they like to stay that way."

Gandalf agreed, then he told how he reached to Rivendell to wait Frodo and his companions who were leaded by Aragorn himself.

By the time they started to discuss what should be done with the ring, Faramir felt how his head was hurting. He had heard different options what to do with it: Give it to Tom Bombadil, hide it, destroy it and even use it. He knew what his father and brother would do, they would want it to be brought to Gondor and to be used against the enemy. But he had learned to think differently, "I agree with lord Glorfindel and Elrond, the ring must be destroyed. No one of us can use it and we cannot hide it. I have learned from this council that the Enemy shall try always to come back because all his power is hidden in the ring. If we want to get rid of him, we must destroy the ring." He sat down and looked how the council finally made the same decision and how Frodo accepted the hard quest on his own shoulders. He saw the burden on the shoulders and in the faces of those who had agreed with the decision. No-one there would sleep well that night, knowing that they had but the fate of the Middle-Earth on the shoulders of such a small person.

* * *

In the evening, Faramir found himself again from the balcony where the sword was kept; he sat on one of the benches and read. He did not know why he had come back to the Nasir, but something was pulling him there. He could read for a half an hour when he felt someone was looking at him, he raised his eyes from the book and saw Aragorn stand beside the statue.

"Lord Aragorn,"

"Lord Faramir, may I sit with you?"

"Of course." He looked how the heir of Isildur sat beside him.

"You have your grandfather's mind, your mother's heart." Suddenly Aragorn said.

Faramir could not believe it. "You have been in Minas Tirith before my birth and met my grandfather and mother?"

"Yes, I knew them. I left when your brother was five and your mother was expecting you."

Faramir knew only one man, who had left before his birth and who his grandfather had admired. "You were Captain Thorongil?"

"Yes, I was."

"When my grandfather died, my father forbade talking about you. But Boromir has always talked about you with a kind word. He said that you were the first to teach him to use the sword."

"Your father was afraid that Ecthelion wanted me to be his son more than him. But yes, your brother always ran behind me with his little wooden sword."

Faramir looked at the man before him, his grandfather had admired the man; his brother had chosen him to be his mentor.

"You knew my mother?" He asked little hope in his voice

"Yes, a little," Aragorn looked at Faramir with kindness in his eyes.

"Can you tell me about my mother? Because when she died, my father forbade talking about her too. He loved her so much."

"Your mother was gentle soul, kind hearted. But strong-willed, some thought her to be weak, but she was strong. She put your father in his place many times! When she lived, laughter and singing filled Minas Tirith."

"Thank you, I needed to hear that."

"Your welcome!"

With that he rose and walked away, Faramir was left to look after him. Confused.


	4. Finding the way

**A/N: Hello again, here is the fourth part as I promised I finished it quicker than the last on, but I'm afraid the next one could take awhile, I have some family problems. But now enjoy and read and review. **

**PS: for a reminder this story is based on both book and movie.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it; they all belong to J. R. R Tolkien.**

**Maradon**

* * *

The autumn in Rivendell was breathtaking. It truly felt like Rivendell was meant to be in autumn colours. The play of colours was more than pleasing and it was neither steaming hot nor ice cold. It was perfect. Even the surrounding mountains were not so dark and gloomy anymore, they were peaceful and comforting.

Faramir had fallen in love this quiet place but he knew that he could not stay here forever and his time in Rivendell was coming to an end. Yes… He was a scholar and Ilmadris was perfect stop for him. Lord Elrond's library was amazing, he could sit there for hours and just read and read and read. But he was also a warrior and he knew in his heart that he could not find his true place somewhere like the quiet and peaceful Ilmadris.

Faramir padded Menenor one last time: "In two days we will start trying to ride again, you seem to have perfectly recovered." Saying that Faramir gave Menenor, whose eyes could not hide the excitement of the prospect of galloping through the endless fields, an apple. Faramir smiled and started his journey back to the house. Soon his smile was replaced with a gloomy look. In Gondor he had known who he was, he was the steward's second son, a Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien. Now he was a wanderer who did not have a home nor a future. He was lost in the dark and deep corridors of his life. Nowhere to go, no-one to be.

At Breakfast even Merry's and Pippin's cheerful chatter did not raise him from his dark thought.

"Faramir, are you alright?" Merry asked worryingly.

"Yes, I'm quit alright, master hobbit."

"But you have not said a word this morning," Pippin looked at him.

"I have been bothered by dark thoughts."

"About the council what was held yesterday?" Merry's eyes lighted up.

"Some of it, yes." Faramir had to smile a little to that question.

"Oh, I wish I could have been in the council." Pippin said.

"You, really wish to know how doomed we really are?" Faramir asked and rose. Both hobbits looked after him in confusion.

"Faramir!" rushed Merry before Faramir could leave, "You promised to tell us about, Gondor, Arnor and Rohan."

"I am sorry, I am not well to tell these stories, but in few days I shall, I promise you." He turned to the breakfast hall doors again, but his way was blocked by Glorfindel and two other elves.

"Faramir, I think you have not met Lord Elrond sons Elladan and Elrohir."

"No I have not; it is nice to meet you, Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir."

"It is nice to meet you too, Lord Faramir." Twins replied in a chorus.

Faramir wanted to pass them but three elves didn't move.

He raised his eyebrow. "Can I go to my room know?"

"Yes, you can," Glorfindel said, "But only if you make a promise to us."

Faramir rolled his eyes… Of course_, another_ promise, "And what may that promise be?"

"You are not going to your room to read," when Faramir started to protest Glorfindel raised his hand, "instead, you are going to take your sword and meet us in the training grounds, we want to teach you some elven fighting techniques, we have two hours until the council, you can spear it can you not?"

"Yes I can, but why?"

"Because of that dark cloud hanging above your head," Elladan smiled.

"And knowing from the stories about you, that you are a scholar and a warrior, and we know that both of your sides will much appreciate it." Elrohir grinned. At that point Faramir discovered what the difference between the twins was: Elladan was the calmer one.

"Alright, I shall be on the training ground in few minutes."

Faramir was smirking when he walked to the training grounds Larsian on his hip, he would have gone with Glorfindel and the twins even if they had not cornered him. He wanted to know the elven fighting techniques. If they had not offered to show it to him, he would have asked them.

Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir were waiting already for him. The eyes of the three elves grew wide when they saw Larsian unsheathed.

"Now I see that it is very important to teach you those techniques!" Glorfindel said calmly.

"Why is that?" Faramir was dazed.

"Because you have a special sword," Elladan murmured.

"A special sword?"

"Yes, a special sword," Glorfindel stepped closer and took it in his own hands, the words _I am Larsian, I protect and serve the one who is loyal _shined in the sun light, "I have not seen it for centuries; no, I am wrong it must have been almost an age. Where did you get it?"

"Mithrandir gave it to me eleven years ago. But do you know its story?" Faramir's eyes started to sparkle with anxiousness.

"Yes, but it is not mine to tell."

Then Faramir turned to Elronds' sons. They shook their heads as well, "It is also not our story to tell; you shall hear it in its right time and right place." Faramir frowned but understood.

For the next forty-five minutes, three elves showed Faramir all the easiest moves they could think and then they went against each other one by one.

"You are a fast learner, Faramir," Glorfindel said when Faramir used all the learned moves in those battles.

"Few have said that before, others say that I am just a show off!"

"Well those people are not very intelligent. Now, what would you say if I asked you to challenge me?" Glorfindel asked taking his sword.

"Alright," Faramir already knew that he would lose. Firstly, he was tired and, secondly, he was fighting with Glorfindel, but it would have been foolish of him to pass this opportunity.

"Oh! This I must see!" Elrohir's amused voice reached to them when they took in the positions.

"We shall fight until the bell to the council rings. Or … until one of us wins."

So they began. Faramir had been right: he was no match to Glorfindel, his 31 years experience were useless against Glorgindel's thousands of years. He fought with everything he got, used every move they had just taught him, and every single one he had learnt in his short life. He did not know how long they had fought when suddenly something disturbed Glorfindel and he lost his concentration and Faramir saw his opening with few shift moves he had Glorfindel on his back and sword on his throat. At the same time first bell for the council rang.

He helped Glorfindel up: "It was well fought Faramir. Well fought!"

"I thank you Glorfindel, but I was just lucky."

"Lucky? I have never seen anyone win Glorfindel!" baffled Elladan when Elrohir walked towards them. They were still in shock, but they came out of it and were suddenly laughing.

"I would never have thought my eyes would see that day when someone wins Glorfindel in a challenge," Elrohir smirked.

"Oh, shush you two and lets go back to the house, the council will start in half an hour, we have enough time to clean ourselves up."

"Yes, Glorfindel," said two brothers still laughing.

Glorfindel was grumpy when they got to the house.

"Do not think that I am mad at you for winning me, you were very good using all you knew against me!"

"Why is your mood down then?" Faramir could not stop himself asking.

"Because those two rascals will surely go and tell it to Erestor," Faramir could not stop himself from grinning: bickering between those two was well known to everyone.

They could not even step into the house when Lord Erestor was in front of them, "What is wrong with those two?" He pointed at the cackling twins.

"There is nothing wrong with us, Erestor," Elladan said trying to stop himself laughing.

"Oh is that right! Then why does your brother sound like a hyena?"

"Because Lord Faramir won Glorfindel in one-on-one match," Elrohir caught his breath to say that sentence and started laughing again.

"You … are … joking?" When two brother shook their head, Lord Erestor lost his calm and started snickering, "You, Glorfindel, the Balrog's slayer, were won by a mere man?" Then he looked at Faramir, "No offence meant, Lord Faramir."

"None was taken." Faramir was amused; he was trying hard not to start laughing himself.

"I have to tell it to Elrond, he would find it amusing." Now Erestor was smirking evilly.

"Do not even think about it! You know that I shall get you back. And you two," Glorfindel pointed at Eladan and Elrohir, "You remember who was the one who taught you most of the pranks you are pulling."

With that the chief of the House of the Golden Flower walked away mumbling. And all the three elves started laughing again. Faramir walked to his room still amused.

* * *

After the second bell rang, Faramir was in the corridor leading to the balcony where the council was held. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he almost ran in to Gandalf.

"Good morning, Mithrandir."

"Good morning, Faramir." Faramir smiled and accorded his steps to Gandalf's.

"Mithrandir, for a long time I have wanted to ask you about Larsian."

"Yes, what about it?" Gandalf raised one of his eyebrows.

"What is the story behind it?"

"It is not my story to tell, when the time and place are right, you shall hear it, I promise you."

"Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir, told me the exact same thing."

"Oh, did they?"

"Yes."

"Good, good," with that he walked away leaving Faramir looking puzzled.

* * *

Faramir frowned, it started again; the discussion on who should take the ring, in Faramir's opinion it had been decided yesterday.

"One of us must to it," Legolas said with confidence.

„And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli stood up, "I shall die before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" The commotion started, Faramir sat on his seat; it was not his battle to fight.

"Never trust an Elf!" Gimli stepped right in front of him

"Do you not understand that while we are here quarrelling about everything we possibly could, Sauron's powers are growing? No-one can escape it! We will all be destroyed!" Gandalf eyes were angry.

While the council was yelling at each other, Faramir saw Frodo, who stood up and tried to make his voice heard over the commotion. He was upset and shaking, yet Faramir had never seen such a firm and determined look in any hobbit's eyes. Finally he yelled, "I already said it yesterday: I will take it! I will take the ring!"

The argument died down. Gandalf closed his eyes as he heard Frodo's statement; he had hoped that he could change yesterday's decision.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though – I do not know the way." Frodo looked at everyone. Faramir looked at the little brave fellow; he had been ready to offer to go himself, he had had enough of the argument, but Frodo had been faster. Gandalf walked to Frodo and placed his hand on Frodo's shoulder "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Then Aragorn rose, „If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," he walked in front of Frodo and knelt before him "You have my sword."

Legolas joined them, "And you have my bow."

Gimli looking grimly at Legolas stepped beside him, "And my axe."

So this was his destiny, this was the way he had to take, "In your hands, Frodo Baggins, are all our hopes and faiths, I will protect you as long as I can." Faramir smiled and took his place behind Frodo.

"Heh!" yelled Sam jumping out from behind of the bushes "Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!"

Elrond was amused „ No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

Suddenly Pippin and Merry emerges from behind the pillars "Wait! We are coming too!"

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Said Merry and stood beside Frodo

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing." Pippin stood besides Merry.

"Well that rules you out, Pip!" Merry hit his companion gently into the ribs.

"Nine companions..." Elrond said, "So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great! … Where are we going?" everyone who knew Pippin shook their heads, only Pippin, could say something like that, only him.


	5. Waiting

**A/N: I'm sorry, that I haven't updated for awhile, but my life has been a bit hectic, but here it is, I hope you enjoy it. I try to update the next chapter sooner. **

**And I thank all of them who have reviewed, I have enjoyed them very much so read and review. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it, they all belong to J. R. R Tolkine.**

It took fifty-two days for them to decide the right course for the fellowship to take, fifty-two days that they had to wait to go on the journey that held their destiny. Faramir had to keep his calm, he would have like to move out from Rivendell immediately after they had put the fellowship together, but he knew that if he would have protested against waiting he would have heard from Mithrandir: "You, my friend, have too much blood from the House of Hurin, they always act before they think." He had heard that before and wished not to hear it again. So his time was spent taking part of the council, fighting lessons from Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir and reading, Faramir did not know how he lived before stepping into Lord Elrond's library.

It was a week after the council where the ring bearer was chosen, Faramir was on the training grounds with Elrond's sons and Legolas who wanted practice and had discovered that his three friends were teaching Faramir and joined them. They were waiting for Glorfindel. It was strange because usually Glorfindel was the first to be there, suddenly he heard a yell from the house: "GLORFINDEL, GET BACK HERE, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY!"

"What? Who was that?" Faramir looked at the three.

"Erestor." Legolas said.

"Why is Erestor yelling at him?"

"He may have discovered what Glorfy did." Elrohir was smirking.

"Glorfy?" it was the only thing Faramir could ask.

"That is what we called Glorfindel when we were little and could not pronounce his name right, now sometimes when we want to annoy him we call him that way." Elladan explained, the smirk on his face, was matched perfectly with the one on Elrohir's.

Sometimes it seemed to Faramir that elves were not that different from men. But he needed to know what was going on: "So what did Glorfindel do? And why?"

"Remember that Glorfindel promised if Erestor told adar about his losing to you he would pay him back?" Elrohir asked.

"Yes," Faramir had to smile; this was going to be interesting.

"Well, Erestor told adar, first Glorfindel hided Erestor's housekeeping book, you know how organized Erestor is?" Faramir nodded, "Erestor has written up his day plans, the menus for meal times etc in that book. Then Glorfindel brought a snake into the house, Erestor is not fond of snakes. And he did something else what we do not have knowledge of but he has made Erestor mad." Elladan said all that with a calm voice but at the same time he was grinning like mad.

"You should erase those smirks on your faces," came sudden command, Erestor had approached so quietly that even Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas had not notice him, "and now tell me, where is Glorfindel?"

"I have not seen him since breakfast, Lord Erestor." Erestor looked at Faramir's eyes, when he saw what he wanted to see he turned to the sons of Elrond and raised his eyebrow.

"Do not look at us Erestor, we have not seen him either." Elrohir raised his arms.

"This time he is telling the truth Erestor, we have not seen Glorfindel." Elladan said calmly but at the same time his eyes were laughing.

"Alright, this time I believe you." Then he turned to Legolas, who stepped back.

"Erestor, you know, I do not give my friends away." Erestor stepped closer, Legolas could see the angry look in his eyes, he clumped, "Erestor I swear to you, that I have not seen him since breakfast."

"Somehow I believe you and knowing you, you do not tell me when you see him, I do not even know why I bother." He shook his head and walked away. All four of them waited until Erestor was out o hearing range before they burst out laughing. Someone's landing on the ground stopped them, they turned around finding Glorfindel standing behind them, "He is gone," he looked around, "good, lets get started." He walked past them like everything that took place in twenty minutes happened everyday.

"It happens all the time that Lord Glorfindel, the chief of protection of Ilmadris, hides himself up on a tree from Lord Erestor, the seneschal of Ilmadris." Faramir said dryly.

"I think you are thanking the Valar that it is me not him, who is going to protect you on the journey." Legolas grinned.

"I don't know it is difficult to choose between the two of you, between elves who are afraid of Lord Erestor of Ilmadris." Faramir said and walked away leavening gobsmacked Legolas staring after him.

A few days later Faramir was sitting in the garden again, reading a book, but he could not concentrate, because he felt like someone was watching him. It was strange he had not had that feeling since he left Gondor, where he could feel eyes on him and hear whispers whenever he walked on the street: "Look! It is the youngest son of the Stewart." And now he had the same feeling here in Rivendell, he didn't see anyone around but he knew someone was watching.

Elrond stepped away from the window of his study, "Faramir is an interesting man. I would never have thought that I would see someone like him born into the House of the Hurin."

Gandalf raised his eyes from the book he was scanning, "Yes Faramir is the jewel of the house of the Steward." Even his name said it: mir – jewel, but Gandalf had never figured out which one Denethor had thought: the hunters jewel or the sufficient jewel. But knowing Denethor, Gandalf already suspected which one, because Boromir was the faithful jewel, it showed Denethor's priorities well.

Gandalf knew that Boromir had high qualities, but he was not the material for a Steward, Faramir was. Boromir was a warrior, the Captain-General, the one who would lead the army. Faramir, yes he was a warrior, but there, inside him, was a leader, he wasn't meant to lead the armies, he was meant to lead the people, even if the young man didn't see it himself.

"I remember the first time I really took notice of him, he was five years old, he had just lost his mother. I was in Minas Tirith trying to reason with Denethor, but the fool did not listen."

_Gandalf walked out from the white hall, he muttered under his breath about stubborn men who thought they knew __it all. Oh, Lord Denethor would do anything to ride him out of the city, but he knew that he would lose the respect of his people if he did that, Gondor's people loved and trusted Gandalf, not like their Steward. _

_He had not notice when he reached the White Tree, suddenly he heard a quiet whimper, he looked that way and saw Denethor's youngest son Faramir sitting on a bench before the tree, he was a miserable little fellow. Something told him to go and comfort the boy._

"_Faramir," Gandalf said sitting beside the child._

"_Mithrandir," the young lord acknowledged him. And there were no other words said. So there they sat, a young boy whose eyes hadn't seen anything yet, only the grief of his mother's passing, and an old man, older than anyone could ever think, whose eyes had seen so much more than he would have ever wanted. Silence surrounded them, only the Northern wind was flying around them, telling them the stories that had been and stories that will be. _

"_Mithrandir, why people have to die?" The small voice asked._

"_Because when the time comes, they need to move on, to peace. Death, my little friend, is just the beginning of something much more."_

_Faramir thought over Gandalf's words, then he looked at the tree, "But this tree, Mithrandir, is also dead, I will not see it bloom, will I?"_

_Gandalf smiled, for someone so small Faramir was a bright little child, "The tree will wake up again, when the king returns, he will heel it." _

_Faramir frowned like he was thinking hard about something, "Could the king have healed my mother?" _

"_He might__ have, there is a saying, that the hands of the king are the hands of a healer." _

"_Then I wish that the king would return," Faramir said with all the confidence he could muster, "Then any other boy would not lose their mother." At that point Gandalf saw it; he saw what kind of a man that little boy beside him would grow up to be. _

"And that was it, I found myself a student, which I did not know I was looking for. And that brilliant little boy grew up to be a brilliant man."

"He is, and it's good that he is in the fellowship, Estel needs someone like him beside him." Elrond said, but even he did not see what the future would behold for the nine companions.

It was a few days later, Faramir was sitting in the garden again, this time he was not alone, all the young hobbits were around him, he was fulfilling his promise, he had just reached the stories of Rohan.

"Rohirrim did not always live on the lands of Rohan, they lived up north. But in year 2510 of the third age King of the Rohirrim, Eorl the Young came to help Gondor against the enemy. In return for that favour Gondor's steward Cirion gave Eorl one of Gondor's provinces, Calenardhon, to call his and his peoples' home, from that time there is the kingdom of Rohan." Faramir took a breath and looked at his listeners, he never would have thought that Pippin could sit in silence so long, "The king of Rohan is Theoden King, who is loved by his people. He has a son, Theodred, I met him a few times, he's Boromir's, my older brother's friend, he is a good man and a very good swordsman, one day he will make an excellent king. King Theoden has a nephew and a niece: Eomer and Eowyn. My paths have crossed with Eomer a few times. He is the third Marshal of the Mark, one of the highest military positions, Eomer is a great leader. There are no men in Rohan who would not follow him, even with his short temper.

I have never met his sister though. But they say that she is a beautiful maiden…" his story was interrupted by an argument.

"And what are you going to do about it, elf?" It was Gimli's voice.

"Whatever a decent elf would do with a dwarf," Legolas answered.

Faramir sighted when he saw Gimli and Legolas nose to nose, "Master Gimli, Prince Legolas, why to you need to argue all the time?"

"Because he is an elf." Gimli growled.

"And he is a dwarf," Legolas said with an annoyed voice. They glared at each other and walked in different direction.

"Well, our journey will be amusing, those two bickering all the time, yes noone, who's after us, will find us." Faramir muttered to himself dryly. But hobbits heard him.

"Faramir, do you really think that the journey will be that dangerous." Frodo looked at the man.

"It is Middle-Earth we are talking about, Frodo. And remember what you will be carrying." Faramir said, and looked at Frodo.

"Yes, but we have you and Strider there to protect us." Pippin's exclamation brought all out from their solemn mood.

"Yes, I and Lord Aragorn will do everything to protect you. So where was I with my story?"

"That Lady Eowyn is a beautiful maiden." Sam said.

"Oh yes, some say that she is the most beautiful maiden in these lands."

"Even more beautiful than Lady Arwen?" Merry raised a questionable eyebrow.

"Maybe, I have seen Lady Arwen only from afar." Saying that Faramir looked at Sam, "I think Sam wants to argue with me for the benefit of his own heart keeper." All the hobbits looked at Sam, they all knew about who Sam thought.

"Yes, I would like to do that, Lord Faramir," then he saw Faramir's look, "I apologize, Faramir, but Rosie is the most beautiful maiden on Middle-Earth."

"Let's make an agreement, Lady Eowyn, even if I have not seen her, is the most beautiful maiden amongst men, Lady Arwen amongst elves and Rosie amongst hobbits, agreed?" All the hobbits agreed happily and Faramir went along with his story.

It was the last night that he would spend in Rivendell, Faramir laughed when he stepped off Menenor, and then he saddened, "Well this is the last time, when I ride with you, in a long time." Menenor whined and nudged him on the shoulder.

"Yes, I know you want to come, but it is not a journey for a horse. I would take you anywhere and I know you would follow me to Mordor itself, but it is not a journey you should take. Glorfindel, Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir will take good care of you. Don't worry, I will soon come and take you home and we will ride happily on the free lands of men."

"Now I understand why everyone thinks so highly of you." Faramir turned around fast, ready to draw his sword, then he remember, he was still in Rivendell, he did not need any weapons there. Behind him stood Arwen Undomiel.

"Lady Arwen." Faramir bowed respectfully.

"Lord Faramir," she smiled gently, "I see you get along well with your horse."

Faramir laughed, "Yes, I talk to him, even if he doesn't answer me, but he always knows what I say."

Arwen walked closer and batted Menenors nose, "He is a magnificent steed." Faramir smiled, at Arwens words, he started to say something, when his eyes fell onto Elrond's daughter's right hand, there it shined, twin serpents, heads met beneath the crown of golden flowers. "Ring of Barahir."

"Yes," Arwen said quietly.

"You are betrothed to Lord Aragorn."

"Yes, I am, but he will get this ring back from me tonight."

"Are you going to…" he left the question unfinished.

"No I am not, but I want to him have the oldest of his family heirlooms with him on his journey." Then she looked into the eyes of Faramir, "I want to ask something of you Lord Faramir."

"Yes, my lady."

"Will you guard his back, shall you be beside him as a friend, he needs one."

"I will, my lady."

"You are a great lord, Lord Faramir, do not forget that. Do not let the shadows cloud your mind, there is a great destiny waiting for you." Having said that, she left. Faramir looked after her, "You know, Menenor, I hope she will be Gondor's queen one day."


	6. The journey begins

**A/N: Here is the ****6****th**** chapter. I know that it took what almost eight months to write, I apologize but I had many family problems that didn't solve themselves. And my Faramir-muse went for a walk, I think he went to search Eowyn-muse, and I think he found her because he came back. **

**But here is the 6****th**** chapter and I try to write the next one little faster. I promise you that I haven't forgotten this story and I'm going to finish it even if it takes years.**

* * *

Faramir stood at the balcony that looked over the great waterfall of Rivendell. He felt the Larsian's weight on his hip and his bow and arrows on his back – it was time. He had bid farewell to Menenor, his only reminder of home. Faramir hoped that his friend would understand that this journey was no place for a horse. Menenor was the only thing he left in Ilmadris and he knew would miss him although Glorfindel had promised to take good care of him.

Faramir sighed it was time the dusk was now falling and the adventure was calling. He had just few steps to the front door, where the fellowship was waiting, or he could just turn around run to the corral take Menenor and head off. Part of him wanted to be as far away from all of it: The quest, the ring and the fellowship, he would have his freedom, the only thing he had ever dreamed of.

But then again what kind of person would he be, a coward, which is exactly what the elves already thought of Men. He would leave his friends, his comrades, at the most difficult time. No, he, Faramir of Gondor, would never do something like that. He had given his promise, and he would never break one of his promises.

He stopped, where, in all of Gondor, had those thoughts come from. A Little sad smile found its way to his face. The ring, it had a mind of its own, he had tried to break one of the men of the fellowship. It had learnt over the centuries well, now knowing that the men were the weakest. But not this one, he had seen the shadow, had fought its foul creatures and survived. No ring will have him. At least he hoped.

"Faramir!" he had reached to the front door when he heard Glorfindel's call.

"Yes, Glorfindel."

"Wait a little; there is no need to rush into the adventures that wait beyond that exit." Faramir had to smile; it felt like Glordfindel was trying to protect him, from the reality that what was facing all of them.

"I'll wait. What are the wise words you want to tell me, Glorfindel?"

"There are no wise words I can give you, for a journey like this. I may never see you again, my friend." The smile that had been constantly on the elf's face had disappeared. No one had seen the golden one in such a solemn mood in hundreds of years.

"Is that a talk of an elf, more so an elf like you? You forget Glorfindel, there is always hope. You must laugh like you have always done."

"Wise words, Faramir. Actually there wasn't anything I wanted to say to you. I wanted to give you something." Glorfindel took his hand behind his back in it was an object in leather bag.

"You don't need to give me anything," Faramir was taken aback.

"Yes, I do, you can think of it as a token given by a mentor to his student."

"You know very well, Glorfindel, that we have never been in a mentor-student relationship. We have been friends. So, You don't need to give me anything."

"Stop arguing, you annoying man, and take this gift from a friend. You know very well the saying of men – If an elf, gives you a gift, then you shall take it. Because elven tokens are much help for you, especially in a long journey."

"Alright, you tedious elf," Faramir grinned, "I'm grateful." He opened the bag; inside he found a horn, covered in beautiful elven ornaments.

"I know, it is not as great and powerful as the horn of Gondor which your brother carries, but when you blow it, your friends will always come."

"Like I said before I'm grateful. You don't know how, much it means to me," a genuine smile appeared on Faramir's face.

"Your welcome, but now its truly time to move or Mithrandir shall take my head for keeping you." The Glorfindel whom Faramir had learnt to know and respect in the two months, was back.

"Yes, he probably would," Faramir grinned and turned to face the adventure, which would change his life for ever.

But Glorfindel was wrong, Gandalf hadn't appeared yet, there were only Gimli and Legolas, who glared at one anothers, Faramir could tell that they didn't have their hearts in this, but they were doing it only for the sake of appearance and of course old habits die hard. In few moments Aragorn appeared, he had a sad smile on his face; he sat on the steps, his head bowed to his knees. Faramir thought he knew why, on Aragorn's right hand finger was the ring of Barahir and around his neck there was a beautiful necklace. Aragorn had just said goodbye to Lady Arwen.

The Hobbit joined them; Faramir could hear Sam muttering about a rope when Lord Elrond and Gandalf came out. Faramir could see Bilbo standing futher on the side, he could see that the old hobbit wanted to go with them to have one more adventure before his life time was up.

Elrond called company to him: „This is my last word," he said in a low voice. „The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy will it be to withdraw. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."

„Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," said Gimli. Faramir looked at the dwarf; he remembered his own thought just a few moments ago.

„Maybe," said Elrond, „but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

„Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart," said Gimli.

„Or break it," said Elrond. „Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"

„Good . . . good luck!" cried Bilbo, stuttering with the cold. „I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"

And so they were on their way. At the dusk, when Middle-Earth was falling a sleep, they started their journey.

They crossed the bridge and wound slowly up the long steep paths that led out of the cloven vale of Rivendell; and they came at length to the high moor where the wind hissed through the heather. Then with one glance at the Last Homely House twinkling below them they strode away far into the night.

At the Ford of Bruinen they left the Road and turning southwards. They walked on by narrow paths among the folded lands. Their purpose was to hold this course west of the Mountains for many miles and days. The country was much rougher and more barren than in the green vale of the Great River in Wilderland on the other side of the range, and their going would be slow; but they hoped that this way, they could escape the notice of unfriendly eyes. The spies of Sauron had hitherto seldom been seen in this empty country, and the paths were little known to anyone except to the people of Rivendell.

Gandalf was leading, and alongside went Aragorn, who knew this land even in the dark. The others were in file behind, and Legolas whose eyes were keen was the rearguard.

When they had left the Ford of Bruinene Aragorn left Gandalf in the lead and stepped next to Faramir, "You look solemn my friend, what is bothering you?" Faramir stopped just for a second and then continued, he thought that he hadn't been that transparent.

"I'm fine Aragorn, nothing is bothering me."

"That, Faramir, I believe as much as Pippin saying that he is not hungry," little smile covered his face, "so tell me what's wrong."

"Today just before I joined the others to begin our journey I had a thought to just run to the corral take Menenor and ride as fast and hard away from Rivendell, away from the quest. I still don't know, if those thought were my own or the ring's try to manipulate me. I was weak and faithless as Gimli said."

"You are not many miles away, sleeping?" Aragon asked.

Faramir had to smile, "No, at least I don't think so."

"Then I certainly think that you are not weak and faithless. You are here, on the quest, in the fellowship. You came."

"Yes, but I had those thoughts, the ring got hold of me, it was trying to command me. The only reason why I changed my mind, was the knowledge that I have never broken my promise and I ever will. That would be a betrayal of my friends, the people who trust me."

"That, I call loyalty. That's one of the strongest traits of the beings of the Middle-Earth. You are neither weak nor faithless and don't ever forget it. Loyalty is one of the trades you have inherited from both your parents." Saying that Aragorn walked forward stopped Merry from falling and took his place next to Gandalf again. Faramir looked after him he still couldn't figure the Dunadan out.

The day was starting and the sunrise was close at hand. They had travelled at least twenty miles over the night, when they finally decided on the place where they could sleep. Faramir had the first watch. He could hear how all his companions lay to rest, but he enjoyed the first watch. Morning was most perfect time of the day, it was crisp, clear and the smell of the winter was in the air. The sun started to peak over the mountains in the east, Faramir still couldn't understand, how something so beautiful, could rise behind lands so dark.

A sudden snore interrupted this beautiful moment. Faramir sighted, of course, Gimli. The only one in the fellowship who snored. He had experience it in Ilmadris – Gimli had slept four rooms down from his.

"In the name of Eru, could somebody, please do something about his snoring. Every fowl creature in fifty miles can hear him." Faramir hissed.

"Faramir, you're exaggerating, it's only forty-nine miles." Aragorn mumbled.

Faramir held his chuckle back; he could hear hobbits snorts and even Gandalf's huffs.

"Even, if fowl creatures won't find us, every animal who thinks it's a mating call, certainly will." Legolas spoke over the snores. Faramir had to bit into his lip, so he wouldn't laugh aloud. Next moment he could hear loud dugh and Gimlis grunt, "What?"

"Turn on your side," Legolas grumbled, "You snore." Faramir couldn't hear what Gimli answered, but he could hear him turning and the snores stopped. Oh, yes, the journey definitely won't be boring.


	7. decisions

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle****-Earth and the characters in it. And the few quotes I have used in this chapter they all belong to J. R. R Tolkin. **

**A/N:**** Well here is the seventh chapter. I had it ready few days ago, but I had a little problem. I am at my great uncles farm and on Wednesday we had a great and powerful thunderstorm and we lost our electricity. It took electricity firm four days to come and fix our problem.**

**I discovered that when the electricity was gone, my life stopped. It is strange how much we have started to depend on electricity and technology. How strange it all is.**

**But I stop my rant and let you continue with the story.**

* * *

Faramir breathed in the winter air, fortnight ago the winter had finally reached them. The Misty Mountains loomed abound ahead. The Gap of Rohan was near. One part of their adventure was ending. The other, much dangerous part was beginning.

They had reached to the lands that men called Hollin. Faramir looked around eyes full of wonder. These were the lands that once were known as Eregion, kingdom of Noldorin Elves. The lands where the rings of power were forged. Now it was only empty land, elves had left when Sauron attacked. Legolas told them that the grass and the trees didn't remember the elves that dwelt here so long ago, but the stones lamented them, "Deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they built us; but they are gone – they are gone. They sought the Havens long ago." Faramir sighted what the world had become.

* * *

Faramir sat on a rock and looked how Aragorn instructed Merry and Pippin in sword fight. It had been fortnight ago when Aragorn and Faramir had battled to warm their stiff muscles up. Suddenly Aragorn had stopped in a mid strike; Faramir had looked him with confusion Aragorn only grinned and pointed behind Faramir's back, where the two youngest hobbits mimicked their moves.

"Well, they don't have finesses, but there is hope," Faramir whispered.

"Yes, "Aragorn agreed, "I think we should, help them a little." Faramir nodded at that.

"Pippin if you swing your sword like that, you will chop your nose off." As Aragorn said those words, Pippin nearly missed his nose, when he tried one block Aragorn had used. So they all agreed; that Merry and Pippin should learn how to use swords.

"Real world calls Faramir." A voice interrupted Faramir's thoughts.

"Mh? What?" Faramir asked and lifted his head, Aragorn stood right before him.

Aragorn raised his eyebrow, "It's your turn."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry." Faramir smiled and rose, he stepped forward where the two eager hobbits were waiting and then frowned, "Pippin always remember the rules, never stick a sword into the earth, now clean it of please."

Pippin blushed, "I'm sorry, Faramir," and scrambled to clean his sword. The smell of fire and cooked food reached into Faramir's nose, it was Sam's turn to cook; he was the only one who could make real dinner out of few scraps. The others could only manage something eatable.

"I'm ready." Pippin had come back.

"Alright." Faramir had learned in his short years how to fight and use his other senses at the same time. He smelled Aragorn's pipe smoke. He knew that every time when one of his companions smoked everything was still alright. Sometimes he wished that he could have picked up that habit, yes he had smoked few times with Mithrandir and few times in the rangers camp. But those times were few and far between. Right now he wished that he would have brought his pipe that he barely used, with him. He heard Mithrandir's and Gimlis discussion about the way to take.

Word Moira brought cold shivers upon Faramir's spine. It wasn't the best way to take, Gandalf feared it, Faramir didn't know why, but he did. When Gandalf fears something, then something wasn't right. And there was Legolas he looked to the south like seeing something strange

Faramir turned his full attention to the hobbits. "Pippin come here; let's see what you have learned."

Pippin smiled and took in the position, and the battle began.

"Two, one, five. Good. Very good," Faramir counted at every sword move.

Aragorn encouraged, "Move your feet!"

"You are doing fine." Merry smiled on the side.

"Now faster," Faramir commanded. Pippin did as he was told.

"You are doing fine Pippin." As Faramir said that, he accidentally nicked Pippins arm. There was a painful yell. Faramir panicked, "I'm sorry," he leaned down to see how much damage he had caused, when Pippin kicked him into the chin. That was much unexpected.

Next thing he heard was Merry's yell, "Get Him!" Faramir went down in a mock battle, when two hobbits attacked him. Faramir couldn't hold back his laugh.

Pippin had grabbed his arm and yelled, "For the Shire! Hold him! Hold him down! Merry!"

Faramir discovered that the hobbits were stronger then they seemed.

"Gentlemen, that's enough." Aragorn walked over and tried to bull the hobbits off from Faramir; he laid a hand on either hobbits shoulder. But Aragorn didn't count on the sneakiness of the hobbits. Before he could even react Merry and Pippin had grabbed his legs and pulled him down on his back.

"What is that?" Sam's question got Faramir attention; he left hobbits to attack Aragorn and looked to the south where others saw something

"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud." Gimli tried to calm the red haired hobbit.

Faramir stood; he looked at the thing that Gimli called just a whiff of cloud, Aragorn and the hobbits had rose. Faramir didn't like what he saw, he laid his hands on Merry and Pippin's shoulder, "its moving fast… against the wind."

"Crebain from Dunland!" at Legolas yell Faramir could feel cold sweat running down his spine.

"Hide." Aragorn commanded.

"Hurry," Faramir told to Merry and Pippin and pushed them towards nearby bushes which offered enough cover so they wouldn't be seen from the air. He shifted his gaze to the rocks and saw that Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli had already hide themselves and Aragorn was pushing Frodo and Sam under some rocks. He could already hear the Crebain cries closing, he dived quickly under the closest bush. It was a close one, just few moments later the birds flew over their resting place. They circled, like they knew that the fellowship was there, they were looking. Suddenly they turned back to the south.

Faramir crawled carefully out from his hiding place; he signalled to the hobbits that the cost was clear.

"Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched." Gandalf voice carried to him, "We must take another path:"

"But what path, should we take?" Frodo asked.

"There is only one way I trust right now. The passage of Caradhras. But many watchful eyes may see us, if they want to." Gandalf said with a deep sight.

"It will be dangerous." Faramir looked up to the three mountains that loomed before them, "I was born under the shadows of the White mountains. It will be bitter cold and the snow will be deep. I know that even if my home peaks haven't seen snow for years, I have climbed them many times as a lad, once we were almost caught into prison of snow."

"Faramir is right, but the Redhorn gate I don't trust, the Crebain just proved its unsafeness. And the way under the mountains I trust even less." Aragorn voice full of concern.

"Caradhras is restful now," Legolas looked with his keen eyes, "If we are quick, it will stay that way."

"Why don't you trust Moria, Aragorn?" Gimli didn't understand.

"There is something I don't like, I can't explain it." Aragorn was being vague.

"So we are going over the mountains?" Frodo asked.

"Yes, it is the safest way, right now." Gandalf took his staff, but he didn't seem so sure about his answer.

In three days they reached to the path that took over the Caradhras. They had travelled on it half a day when the snow arrived. At the beginning there was only thin layer on the ground, but soon, heavy drops started to fall and just in half an hour it turned to a blizzard. How ironic Faramir found himself thinking, when he was in Gondor he missed the snow, for four years it hadn't fell. Since the shadow had started creeping behind the borders. The winters came, they were cold and crisp, the snow would have softened them, but the white carpet never covered the ground.

But here on the way over Caradhras he wished it would go away. The snow got deeper colder, everywhere he looked there was only white. The snow had risen so high that it was almost over Hobbits heads, Aragorn was supporting Sam and Frodo and Faramir had taken Pippin and Merry into his own care. At that moment he discovered his jealousy at the elves. Legolas just walked beside the fellowship, on the snow, his light leather shoes left only faint imprints at his wake. Faramir could hear Gimli grumble before him, "Stupid feather footed elf."

Faramir hold his laughter back, he knew that once he started he coulsn't finish, the adrenaline in his body, wouldn't let him.

The night was growing, when it all happened, the rocks had started to fall, the mountain tried to come down on them.

"There is a fell voice in the air!" Faramir couldn't hear Legolas well, Faramir didn't hear anything in the wind, but his ears weren't as sharp as the elf's.

"It's Saruman," Gandalf spat out the name of a wizard who he once thought as a brother.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Faramir could hear Aragorn's yell, but he didn't see him, they all had pushed themselves against the mountain wall.

"No," was all that Gandalf said, he stepped away from the ledger under what they were hiding, he raised his arms and chanted, "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!" Faramir knew what those words meant: Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath! But nothing happened, the mountain still raved around them. The voice what Legolas heard, from the air, came more angrily and loudly even Faramir's mortal ears could hear it now.

"Gandalf, we must get out of here, go to the way we just came. There is a place we can take shelter. We can't survive here, the stones will kill us. And the little ones are tired and cold, they need rest." It was the first time that Faramir called the wizard Gandalf. He had called him Mithrandir since first time they met. Maybe that was the thing that caught Gandalf attention, because suddenly he agreed and gave up the fight with the mountain.

The fellowship turned around and went where they had come from, just the around the corner there was a little cave.

It protected them to some degree. They had bought wood, but no elven magic or dwarf's tricks could make them lit.

Gandalf sighted he Picked up a faggot he held it aloft for a moment, and then with a word of command, "naur an edraithammen!" he thrust the end of his staff into the midst of it. At once a great spout of green and blue flame sprang out, and the wood flared and sputtered.

"If there are any to see, then I at least am revealed to them," he said. "I have written "Gandalf is here" in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin."

Faramir shake his head, enemy already knew where they were, Saruman had tried to take them down. All who had wanted to know where they were already knew it.

"Well we have to decide," Aragorn was the on who spoke those words, "the night is growing old; dawn will soon catch up with us." The fire was starting to die.

"Decide what?" Pippin was confused, there was nothing to decide, he was warm, there was fire and he would happily staid there.

"Which way to go," Faramir whispered, "Do we try again, take the path over Caradhras, or a different one."

"Redhorn hasn't forgiven us yet," Gimli observed, "He will give more snow. Saruman, made him angry already."

"Which is the other path that Faramir talked about?" Frodo asked.

"We can go under it." Aragorn answered.

"The Mines of Moria." Gandalf confirmed his eyes full of fear. "It is as dangerous as the mountain. But let the Ring bearer decide."

Every eye's in the cave turned to Frodo. Faramir could see how the hobbit was confused; he didn't want to be the one who decided. But he took himself together, "We go to the mines."

"So be it." Gandalf whispered.

"We must get out of here, but the snow is so high that it is over Gimli's and little one's heads." Faramir looked at the caves entrance.

"Then let us force a path, you and I!" Aragorn smiled, Faramir looked the drift; he had shovelled snow many times when he was lad, but never had he done it with his hands.

"Well, there is a first time for everything." Faramir half-smiled and the two men started working.

Legolas rose, "Well, let the strong men work. Farwell, I'm going to look for the Sun." and gone the elf was.

It was hour later when Legolas re-appeared; Aragorn and Faramir came behind him.

"Well," cried Legolas as he ran up, "I have not brought the Sun. She is walking in the blue fields of the South, and a little wreath of snow on this Redhorn hillock troubles her not at all. But I have brought back a gleam of good hope for those who are doomed to go on feet. There is the greatest wind-drift of all just beyond the turn, and there our Strong Men were almost buried. They despaired, until I returned and told them that the drift was little wider than a wall. And on the other side the snow suddenly grows less, while further down it is no more than a white coverlet to cool a hobbit's toes."

"So, we are free to go?" Pippin hopped in one place, he wanted to get out of that snow-covered place.

"Yes, we are free to go." Faramir smiled, but his heart ached. He had a bad feeling about the turn that their journey had taken.


	8. Into the Darkness

**A/N: I'm sorry it took me almost a year to update this story, but as you can see, I'm not abandon this story. LOTR stories are hard to write when you aren't in the mood and your Faramir-muse has walked away – to drink or find his Eowyn-muse. I hope to upload next chapter sooner than this one.**

**My gratitude goes to lilgenious for betaing.**

**So read and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it.**

* * *

Two nights ago they had started on their journey to Moria, the last night the Wargs attacked them. Faramir had fought many Wargas in his life but these beasts were not like the ones whom orcs rode. They were more vicious and bigger than the ones Sauron send to Ithilien. He knew they all would have died even if they had fought with all their might. If Gandalf wouldn't have lit that old tree on fire they would have lost. He felt fear grabbing him; he should run, abandon the quest and hide somewhere safe.

If he were to hide it would be somewhere faraway, where no one could find him and when everything would be over he would go to Rivendell and take Menenor. Live a happy life and not be part of this Valars forsaken war.

"Faramir?" hands were placed on both of his shoulders, Aragorn and Legolas stood on either side of him.

"Yes," Faramir pushed his thoughts aside, had they felt his thoughts, that he doubted himself, had they felt his thoughts. And something occurred to him, he himself would never think like that.

"You were far way with your thoughts." Legolas said softly, somewhere along the journey, Legolas and he had become friends.

"Yes, maybe I was," he sighed, "It was the ring." He couldn't deny the fact.

"It has tried to poison all our hearts," Aragorn smiled sadly, "offered us power and if that hadn't worked it planted fear."

"It has only used fear on me; it thinks I'm the weakest." And he knew that was the truth.

Legolas shook his head, "No you are not. Soon, when he figures out that fear doesn't affect you, he will offer you power."

"And when it offers me power I have to run or one of you should, kill me. I don't know how long I can fight it, if it does that." Faramir knew in his heart that he wouldn't have the will to fight the offer.

"Stop doubting yourself, you are a son from the House of Hurin, you have the heart and the will." Aragorn proclaimed; then he and Legolas left him to his thoughts. Faramir knew that they were right, he had the will and the power, but he had lived so many years under his father's rein, it was hard to abandon the familiar.

"The walls of Moria!" Gimli's awed exclamation brought him out of his misery. Before them stood a mountain, one of its sides was tall and smooth, impossible to climb; there was nothing to hold in to. As Glimli had said, it was the wall of Moira. Before it ran the river Sirannon, it had been dammed and had filled the entire valley. They continued their walk along the walls.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli proclaimed.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf grumbled.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas rolled his eyes. Faramir heard Gimli's grunt and held his smile back, those two had turned from enemies to friends in a matter of days, they still fought but it had turned to a friendly tease than the I'll-kill-you-when-I-have-the-chance.

Faramir looked around; the valley was empty and barren. He felt a few cold shivers move down his spine, he didn't like this place at all. The lake, it wasn't a river anymore, looked so dark and threatening. He knew that he wasn't the only one who didn't like this place. Aragorn and Legolas seemed like they were ready to fight, Gandalf seemed worried, Faramir had never seen him like that. Gimli was the only one who appeared to be content to be in this damned place.

Gandalf stepped to the wall between two trees. Just at that moment the moon appeared from behind the clouds and one of the most beautiful doors that Faramir had ever seen was before them.

At the top, as high as Gandalf could reach, was an arch of interlacing letters in an Elvish character. Below, the threads were, in some places, blurred or broken the green highlighted sentence could be the outline of an anvil and a hammer could be seen surmounted by a crown with seven stars. Beneath these were two trees, each bearing crescent moons. More clearly than all else there shone forth in the middle of the door a single star with many rays.

"These are the emblems of Durin!" cried Gimli.

"And there is the Tree of the High Elves!" said Legolas.

"And the Star of the House of Fëanor," said Gandalf. "They are wrought of ithildin that mirrors only starlight and moonlight, and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle-earth. It is long since I heard them, and I thought deeply before I could recall them to my mind."

"What does the writing say?" asked Frodo, who was trying to decipher the inscription on the arch. "I thought I knew the elf-letters but I cannot read these."

"The words are in the elven-tongue of the West of Middle-earth in the Elder Days," answered Gandalf. "But they do not say anything of importance to us. They say only: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. And underneath small and faint is written: I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs."

"What does it mean by speak, friend, and enter?" Merry asked.

"Oh it's quite simple. If you are a friend you speak the password and the doors will open," Gandalf explained, he stood great and tall before the doors, "Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen! Fennas Nogothrim lasto beth lammen!" Faramir quickly translated it in his head, _"Gate of the Elves open now for me! Doorway of the Dwarf-folk listen to the word of my tongue!"_

"Nothing's happening." Pippin said in his naivety, Faramir placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him quiet. But Gandalf was not even listening he started to push at the door, but it stayed shut.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of the Elves, Men, and Orcs." Gandalf muttered.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin asked Faramir sighted there was nothing in Arda that could stop Pippin from talking.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them at least I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words." Gandalf raised his voice in irritation. Others backed off and let the wizard work. Faramir had a feeling that it was going to take a while.

* * *

Faramir sat by the lake Gandalf had tried to open the gate for hours now but nothing had still yet happened. But the feeling that something was not right hadn't left him. It was too quiet and it shouldn't have been. Even though they were under the shadow of Caradhas there should be some noise from the animals and birds but there was nothing and Faramir couldn't comprehend why. He had seen many things in his days on Middle-Earth but this was strange.

There was suddenly a pipe in front of him, "Don't over think," Aragorn said.

Faramir looked at the pipe, "What is this?"

"As if you don't recognize a pipe?" Aragorn chuckled.

"I know what a pipe is, Aragorn," Faramir groaned, "Why are you offering it to me?" in knowledge of Faramir in all the weeks, that Aragorn knew him, he did not know that the latter sometimes smoked.

"Well it's my spare, never been used. I heard one day how you said to Gandalf that you regret that you left yours in Minas Tirith. So I thought I could lend you one of mine."

Faramir smiled, he took the pipe and offered pipe-weed, "Thank you, I'm not a big smoker but I just thought that I could use this little habit to calm down." He lit the pipe and took a first drag, when the smoke filled his lungs, he somehow found himself at peace again, but the feeling of threat remained. He could see that Aragorn was on his guard even if he seemed relaxed.

"Faramir?" the man looked up, before him stood Merry, Pippin and Sam.

"Yes."

"Could you tell us a story?" Merry asked.

Faramir should have figured that the hobbits would get bored, "I don't know what stories I could tell you, I'm all out of the stories I know about Gondor, Arnor and Rohan."

"Tell us about your brother." Pippin who was the one who said it got a hit to his head from both his fellow hobbits. Then it occurred to Pippin, that maybe it was too painful for Faramir to talk about his older brother, "My apologies, Faramir, I didn't think."

"You never do," Sam muttered.

"There is no need to apologize, Pippin," he took a drag from his pipe, "I don't know what to tell you about Boromir. We are as different in so many ways as we are alike. We are the same with our looks, except our hair, and with some points of our character. He is more warrior than I am, he doesn't like books, he hates sitting in one place and read. When my favourite place in all Gondor is Ithilien, his is Osgiliath one of our fairest city. He is honourable and loyal man and a great warrior. Even if he is harsh sometimes he has been the greatest brother one could have." He took another drag, his eyes were glazed over and he looked lost in his memories.

He remembered one time not so long ago. He had had a bad day; his father had berated him again. He had been in his room reading, trying to find some peace of mind, to lose himself into some other world. Boromir came to his room, "Hey little brother, nose in a book again," he laughed, "you are warrior of Gondor, a captain of the rangers, you can't be a scholar..." he stopped like had just discovered what he had said.

"You sound just like father," Faramir couldn't stop himself from saying.

"Yes, I know," he sighed and sat beside me on a sofa, "I didn't mean to I apologize. I just wanted to joke with you, but it went wrong. I had a hard day, I had to discipline three of my soldiers, THREE, I don't understand, where are lads coming from these days. And then I had a fight with father, I still don't know how all the citadel didn't heard it. Then I thought I will come and joke with my little brother and look what happened, I sounded like father." Faramir had put his book down and looked at his brother, Boromir looked bone tired, "Well if you wanted to laugh about my bookworm habits, then I should tell you, look who is talking." Faramir smiled sweetly at Boromir.

"What are you talking about, dear brother of mine?" a feral grin was plastered on his face.

"If I'm bookworm because I like to read and listen songs and poem, then what are you big, strong Captain-General of Gondor whose favourite city of Gondor is not Minas Tirith as it should be, but Osgiliath the city of Arts, poetry and music?" Boromir looked at his little brother like he had seen him for the first time in his life. Then he started laughing, Faramir hadn't seen him laugh like that in long time, tears were pouring out from Boromir's eyes.

"You know little brother, I have missed this. With everyday you sound more and more like mother." Faramir remembered his sock at Boromir's words that when he had recovered to ask him what he was meant by those words, he was already asleep.

Faramir came out from his haze, "Apologies, I was lost in a memory. I don't know what more I could tell you about him."

It was quiet again. Gandalf's next spell, "Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa*!" only interrupted the silence.

"I don't know your brother well," Aragorn turned to Faramir, "but as you know I knew your mother, her favourite city was also Osgiliath."

"Really?" Faramir hadn't known that.

Aragorn chuckled at Faramir's amazement, "Yes, it was her city. Findulias went there every chance she got. The statue that was placed into her garden was made by one of the finest sculptures from Osgiliath." Faramir knew the statue; it was in the middle of his mother's garden, now it was cowered in vines and the marble had stained, because Denethor didn't let anyone attend to it, but it still stood and Faramir would look at it for hours in a day, trying to picture that statue as living and breathing woman.

"The Lord of the city," Aragorn continued his tale, "even gave her, her own bench by Anduin." Aragorn fell into silence, seemed like he was remembering. Only things that were heard were Gandalf's mutterings and Gimli's and Faramir's huffs when they smoked.

Faramir couldn't stand the silence, "Aragorn could you please tell me more?"

Faramir wanted to hear about his mother, Boromir had tried to tell him, but he himself had been a child when she died. And everyone else had been under strict orders from the Stewart not even take her name into their mouth.

Aragorn smiled again his sad smile, "She was beautiful, gentle and she had so much will power, but that all couldn't make her happy. Her place was not in Minas Tirith." Faramir looked around; everyone had started to listen, except Gandalf.

"She loved spending time with your brother, to play with him, sing with him and teach him everything she could. She even got Denethor into their games. She loved chasing Boromir through the citadel, red hair flying like flames." Faramir could imagine it all from the little pieces of his memory.

"But all of it couldn't make her happy. I remember one time I accompanied her to Osgiliath. I was one of the rangers to guard her. She loved to sit on the bench by the river. I was the one who she had picked to accompany her. We had been there in silence for hours. Then she turned to me, "You know Thorongil, people think they know, why I love this city more than Minas Tirith," she said voice full of sadness, "one reason yes, is that it's the city of culture, song, poems and art. Main reason is that it's placed on the banks of the Anduin. The river brings here the salty air of the sea, the cries of the gulls. Osgiliath is the closest place I have to my home. Oh Thorongil, how I miss Dol Armoth, my home, the beautiful and calm city by the sea. Minas Tirith is made of stone, sometimes it feels like her people's hearts are also made of stone. There are times that it feels like even my husband doesn't love me and that the only one who loves me in that cold, hard city is my Boromir." With that said she rose and walked away. Only thing that I could do was walk after her. That day my assumptions were proven right, that your mother was unhappy and lonely." Aragorn sighed and turned to Sam, "Come lets go and let Billy go these mines are no place for a pony.

When Aragorn rose, Faramir clasped his arm, "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," he said and left with Sam.

Everyone else decided to leave Faramir to his thoughts.

He had always known that his mother had been sad and lonely. There were only two things he could actually remember from his mother and that was the lullaby she liked to sing and her sad green eyes. He could never ask anyone about her, his father had banished her from the minds and thought of the people who she once called her own. It always made Faramir feel like he had lost her twice.

Suddenly he heard a splash and looked up, Merry had thrown a rock into the lake and Pippin was ready to throw his own. Faramir was already up to stop him, but Aragorn was faster.

He grabbed Pippin's arm, "Don't disturb the water." But it was already too late something moved in the water. Faramir and Aragorn froze and exchanged looks, this was not good.

"It's a riddle. Speak "friend" and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo's voice carried to them.

"Mellon." Gandalf answered. The ground shook and grumbled and Moira's gates opened.

"Thank the Valars," Faramir heard himself whisper.

He and Aragorn followed the others to the mines. Gandalf lit the stone upon his staff and Faramir found himself frozen again, "This is no mine, it's a tomb."

"No!" Gimlis desperate cry flew over the hall.

Legolas kneeled and pulled an arrow from one of the corpses, "Goblins." He hissed.

Faramir was the first on who reacted, "Get out. Let's get out from this damn place."

They backed out; Faramir was so occupied to watch that they weren't attacked from the front that he didn't pay any attention what was happening behind him.

"Strider!" Sam yelled. Out from the water a long sinuous tentacle had crawled; it was pale-green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had taken hold of Frodo's foot and was dragging him into the water. Sam on his knees was now slashing at it with a knife. Merry and Pippin had run forwards to help they had grabbed their little swords from their belts to try to cut the tentacles.

Legolas shot the tentacle holding Frodo. Faramir and Aragorn rushed to the water with their swords, and attacked the Watcher. It forced Frodo to fly around in the air. Faramir sliced the tentacle holding Frodo, who fell, and Faramir caught him. Aragorn and Faramir retreated towards the cave.

"Into the Mines!" Gandalf yelled to them.

Faramir carried Frodo to the entrance and looked behind, "Legolas!" he called.

Aragorn pushed the hobbits in front of him "Into the cave! Run!"

Legolas shoot an arrow into the Watcher's eye. It pulled back and as the Fellowship raced into Moria, it reached out and slammed the gates shut. Rocks dropped and the roof of the passage collapsed. Total darkness fell, then a faint beam of light emitted from Gandalf's staff.

"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." Gandalf said and took the point of the fellowship.

* * *

***Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa - Gate of Elves listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves**


	9. Mines of Moira

**A/N: Here is finally the ninth chapter. I finally my Faramir-muse has returned, maybe he gor tired of searching Eowyn-muse. Or maybe he found her, because soon, soon she will enter into the story. I'm already writing the tenth chapter.**

**So to remind you this story is book and movie based.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it; they all belong to J. R. R Tolkien**

**Maradon**

* * *

It was dark - that was the only thing Faramir's mind could bring forth to describe Moira. The scholar in him, couldn't come up with any other description. It was dark and empty; the two things that always put fear in his heart.

He didn't know how long they had traveled the mines, had it been days or hours. There was no sun light, the only light came from Gandalf staff. It drew shadows on the walls. Shadows, shadows were the one thing that truly scared him on Arda. Not his father's berating or his brother's disappointment, the shadows were much frightening. They could cloud your mind and heart. They almost had caught him and they still haunted him.

But he had escaped them, in Rivendell he had found his peace of mind, but there was time to fear and there was time to fight. He had to move on to survive. He had to forget his fear of letting down his brother and Father. No, not forget, but to move on and lock all of his fears into depths of his mind and keep found memories of his mother and brother in his heart. He had to become a man who they could be proud of. He recalled, somewhere from the depths of his mind, that in his childhood he hadn't feared disappointing his father and brother but his mother.

They had stopped, there was two way' but Gandlaf and Gimli didn't know which one to chose. Faramir leaned his head against the wall and closes his eyes. He didn't know how long they been waiting for Gandalf to choose the right way.

"What melody are you humming?" asked Pippin who sat right between him and Legolas.

"Hmm?" Faramir didn't know he was humming.

"You, hum some kind of a melody, its sweet and at the same time a bit sad." Said Merry looking up from Faramir's shoulder, where he had placed his head.

"It's a lullaby from Dol Armoth, my mother sang it to me and after she was gone, my brother did."

"Can you sing it to us?" Pippin asked.

"If, I remember it correctly," Faramir sighted and closed his eyes:

The world has gone to sleep,

The night has fall so deep.

The stars above us shine,

So close your eyes, my child.

Hear the waves sing,

Hear the bubbling spring.

Hear the gulls' cries,

So close your eyes.

It's safe to travel dreams

It's safe, there are no more fears.

It's safe, the shadows can't reach,

Where the stars guard your sleep.

So close your eyes, my child.*

When he finished, everyone was silent. Even Gandalf had stopped muttering.

"It was beautiful." Said Sam, he had made a comfortable place between Frodo and Aragorn.

"Yes, it was, but now it is time to sleep." Aragorn suggested. Faramir saw something in his eyes. Sadness, yes that was it, but why, Faramir didn't know.

He closed his eyes and did as Aragorn had told.

There was darkness, sound of fighting, sound of running. Then there was fire, red flames coming at him. He heard the words "The White wizard approached." whispered from the flames.

He woke up with a start. A vision? He hadn't expected it here, in this dark place. He was confused why had Lórien the master of visions, sent it to him.

He looked around; he was the only one who was awake except Frodo who was on a guard duty and Gandalf who still was trying to think out which way to chose.

Before Faramir could figure out what to do, Gandalf turned to him and raised an eyebrow. The decision had been made for him, he lifted Pippins head that was resting on his shoulder and placed it on to Merry's, he rose and made his way to Gandalf.

"What is troubling you, Faramir? Soon it will be time to move on; you should sleep as much you can." Faramir had last heard that kind of voice, full with gentle worry, from Gandalf when he had been injured on a patrol and didn't take care of himself properly. Gandalf and Boromir had to drag him to bed. He still suspected that they had sedated the drink; they had given him, because he had slept for two days after that incident.

"I had a vision." Gandalf was the only one with whom he could talk about this; he didn't want to confide in Aragorn and Legolas about this. Not yet, he wasn't ready to trust them that much.

"What was it about?" Faramir told him. He saw Gandalf frown.

"What is it? What does the vision mean?" He could feel panic starting to rise.

"I don't know exactly. I have my suspicions. Remember what I told you once about this place?" Gandalf lit his pipe.

Faramir looked at his mentor and his words came back to him. "You said that deep in here laid something ancient. That, drawers didn't know what they were waking when they dug deeper."

"Yes, you have learned your lessons well, let's hope, that this doesn't come to pass. And then the white wizard. You know very well who the white wizard is?" Gandalf took the next drag from his pipe and raised his eyebrow again.

"Saruman." It was the only conclusion Faramir could make.

"Yes, Saruman the White." Gandalf smiled sadly, he would never have thought that the leader of Istari would ever turn his back to the free folks of the Middle-Earth. He came out from his thought, like he had found some kind of hope from them. He turned to Faramir and asked. "But now could you please wake the others?"

Faramir did as Gandalf bid. When he returned where he once had slept he passed Frodo who was watching something in the dark. He hadn't seen anything, but it seemed Frodo did. But it wasn't anything important or the Halfling would had alarmed the others.

When he woke the others, he heard bits and pieces of Gandalf's and Frodo's talk the name Gollum got his attention. But when he started listening closer Gandalf declared. "Ah! It's that way."

"He's remembered!" Merry yelled

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." Gandalf smiled

Gandalf went ahead truth the tunnel on the left, they all followed and soon they stepped into a wide opened space.

"Let me risk a little more light." Suddenly the stone on his staff lit brighter. It illuminates a huge hall of stone lined with tall pillars and arched ceilings as far as the eye can see. All members of the Fellowship, including Gimli, looked around in awe.

"Behold! The great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf." Gandalf's voice echoed from the stones.

"Now there's an eye opener, and no mistake." Said Sam. Faramir nodded in his wildest dreams he couldn't have imagine something so fantastic.

"There is a light ahead." Legolas pointed towards the north.

"Yes." Gandalf went toward the light. Following his lead the Company passed under the northern arch. They found themselves in a wide corridor. As they went along it the glimmer grew stronger, and they saw that it came through a doorway on their right. It was high and flat-topped, and the stone door was still upon its hinges, standing half open. Beyond it was a large square chamber. It was dimly lit, but to their eyes, after so long a time in the dark, it seemed dazzlingly bright, and they blinked as they entered.

Their feet disturbed a deep dust upon the floor, and stumbled among things lying in the doorway whose shapes they could not at first make out. The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone. "It looks like a tomb." Frodo muttered.

Faramir had to agree, it couldn't be anything else. He looked at Gandalf.

Gandalf went quickly to Frodo's side. On the slab runes were deeply graven:

"These are Daeron's Runes, such as were used of old in Moria," said Gandalf. "Here is written in the tongues of Men and Dwarves:

BALIN SON OF FUNDIN

LORD OF MORIA."

"He is dead then," said Frodo.

"I feared it was so." Gimli cast his hood over his face.

Faramir bowed his head. Gandalf had told him about the journey to the Lonely Mountain, about Thorin and the eleven dwarves who had accompanied him; Balin had been one of them.

Gandalf stepped to the skeleton that lay beside the tomb; Faramir could hear him mumbling sadly, "Ori." So another one of the eleven dwarves, Faramir couldn't even comprehend how few of them were still alive. Gloin Gimli's father had been in Rivendell. But Faramir didn't have any idea how many of them had come to Moria with Balin and how many had stayed behind in the Lonely Mountain. He knew Kili and Fili had died with Thorin, but what about the other survivors.

He wanted to ask it from Gandalf, but the wizard had picked up a book from Ori's grasp and had started to read: "It is grim reading," he said. "I fear their end was cruel. Listen! "We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frár and Lóni and Náli fell there." Then there are four lines smeared so that I can only read "went 5 days ago." The last lines "run the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes, "and then drums, drums in the deep." I wonder what that means. The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: "they are coming." There is nothing more." Gandalf paused and stood in silent thought.

Faramir could feel cold shivers ran up on his spine, he could see the fear on the faces of others also.

Suddenly there was a loud racked, they all turned where it had came from and saw Pippin who had touched an arrow head on a corpse what was sitting by a stone well. But the corpse's head had fallen off into the well.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" as soon as Gandalf had yelled those words drums echo up from deep below. Faramir knew what it meant; he had heard those drums before. Frodo threw Sting from its scabbard. It shone blue has did Gandalfs Glamdring.

"Orcs!" Legolas yelled.

Gandalf, Faramir and Aragorn ran to the door, Gandalf peaked out from it.

"There are many orcs and a cave troll." Arrows went flying, "Close that door, let the eastern one at yare, we can make our escape from there, when we have delayed the enemy from here." Gandalf backed off when Aragorn and Faramir started to block the door.

But it was no use, when they had backed to the others and taken battle stands. First there was foot beneath the door. Frodo was the first to react he cried, "For Shire!" and springing beside to the door; he stooped, and stabbed with Sting at the hideous foot. The Sting was almost wrenched out from his hand bur Frodo got it back. Black drops dripped from the blade and smoked on the floor, Frodo backed back to the fellowship.

"One for the Shire!" cried Aragorn. "The hobbit's bite is deep! You have a good blade, Frodo son of Drogo!"

Then everything went from bad to worst. If anyone would have ask Faramir, he couldn't have correctly describe the battle even if his life depended on it. They broke down the door, Faramir shot arrows at them, he killed at least ten before the enemy was upon him. He threw Larsian from its scabbard and fought with all his might. Suddenly he saw how the troll entered and went after Frodo. He tried to reach him, but the orcs always blocked his way. He saw Aragorn and the other Hobbits try to help the ring bearer. But it all was in naught; Faramir saw how the troll stabbed Frodo with spear. Son of Denethor froze, he had failed, he had promised to protect Frodo, but now the Halfling was dead. He saw how Legolas shot three arrows to the trolls head and with that the battle was over, orcs fled; their leader was dead.

"Frodo!" he heard Aragorn cry. The hobbit laid there unmoving, Aragorn turned him over and the ring bearer gasped. Everyone sighted in relief.

"I'm fine, I'm alright, and I'm not hurt." He said with gasps.

"That spear should have killed you?" Aragorn looked confused.

"I think, there is more, than meets the eye." Gandalf declared. Frodo opened his shirt and revealed his Mithril shirt.

"You are full of surprises, Frodo. Gift from Thorin to Bilbo I presume?" Gimli looked the shirt in wonder.

"There is no time for this, we must go." Gandalf ordered.

So they ran from the room from the eastern door down the stairs and into the great hall of Moria.

They escaped barely from the stairs which were broken. Large gap was between two sides of the stairs. They made it over even Gimlis beard what was almost ripped off when Legolas tried to save him from falling into the gap.

They were near the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, when they saw from the back halls flames rising and the rooms filled with heat.

Faramir felt like a cold hand had touched his heart that was the thing Gandalf had talked about. Balrog the ancient beast. The one who the dwarves had woken.

"Run! Run as fast as you can!" Gandalf yelled when they neared the bridge. They ran with all of their power they had left and crossed the bridge. But Gandalf stopped at the middle of it and turned. When Balrog stepped onto the bridge he raised his staff and cried:

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

he lowered his staff with onto the bridge with a loud bang as Barlog stepped closer, the bridge collapsed under him. Gandalf sighted then turned and made his way to the company. He was almost a cross the bridge but at the last minute, the flaming whip lashed up from the depths and wound about Gandalf's ankle, dragging him over the edge.

"No!" Faramir hears himself cry, at the same time he grabbed hold of Frodo who tried to run to Gandalf.

Gandalf cling to the bridge and ordered one last time "Fly you fools." And then he was gone.

Faramir didn't know what to think, he was in a daze, but he reacted when Aragorn yelled, "Come, Faramir, move!"

When they finely got out from Moria, Faramir collapsed and the grief took him over. Gandalf was gone, the man who had been more his father than his real one. He felt how tears fell from his eyes. His mentor, his teacher was gone, gone to the Valars. Now he had lost almost everyone, except his brother. Tears fell from his eyes and he could hear himself yell, but what? He didn't understand. Oh how he didn't care anymore. He had lost almost everything.

"Faramir!" he heard someone yell, he looked up there stood Aragorn, "We must go Faramir, soon the sun will set and the orcs come out from Moria. We can't grieve yet."

The Son of the Stewart didn't understand what Aragron meant, everything was lost, Gandalf was gone the quest had failed. But something in Aragorn's eyes made the younger man look around. The others were grieving also, they were scadered around the rocks, the fellowship was fallen apart. He turned to the west and saw Arien's vessel making its way to its resting place. Yes, the sun was setting and if they didn't move fast, he could lose more of his friends. Faramir dried his eyes, Aragorn was right, "Where are we heading?"

"To Lothlórien, we and the ring will be safe there. Help me get the others!" Aragorn explained in calm voice but Faramir saw the despair in his eyes, and he nodded. He had always wished to visit the beautiful kingdom of Lothlórien but right now he didn't feel any joy at the prospect.

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**AN: *This is my creation. I hope it fits into Tolkiens creation.**


	10. Lothlorien

**A/N: So here is the 10th chapter, read and enjoy.**

**This story still is book and movie based.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it; they all belong to J. R. R Tolkien**

**Maradon**

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Faramir looked at the stars; somehow they had always comforted him. They seemed more beautiful throw the trees of the Golden Wood. It was peaceful; it felt like they were back in Rivendell.

They had made it there in a nick of a time. They had passed the borders of Lothlórien just as the sun set. Gimli had complained about the trees and about how they should not have come here, how the elf-witch will cast a spell on theme and they all would be lost.

Faramir who wanted to grieve in peace, was so close to snap at the dwarf who constantly before he could do anything the fellowship was stopped. Even thru his grief Faramir felt how laugher rose from his chest. Again he had elven arrow in his face, but that time it wasn't Glorfindel and the elf didn't seem so friendly.

They had been brought before Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. He had heard the stories and songs about the lady of the Golden Wood. But the reality exceeded the fantasy, she was much more than the bards could fathom.

But Faramir couldn't concentrate on her beauty or the conversation, his head hurt and everything was a haze. He wanted to be left alone and rest.

Suddenly Lady Galadriel looked at him and he heard her voice in his mind. _"Now is the time to grieve and rest, Faramir of Gondor, we will talk later."_

So now he sat under the tree and looked at the stars. Lady Galadriel had told him to rest, but the he didn't find it.

Grief was too strong; he couldn't close his eyes, or accept sleep. Gandalf had been with him since the time his mother had died and now he was gone. He was all alone in this world. His brother was far away; his horse who had kept him company in the darkest hours was in Rivendell and the person who he had trusted the most, was dead.

Suddenly there was a little noise and someone was standing before him. He knew that it couldn't have been someone of his company, because they had gone to dinner. He hadn't joined them, even when they all had tried to convince him that he needed to eat, but he didn't have the appetite. He looked up and there stood Haldir.

"Our Lady wishes do speak with you, Lord Faramir." He offered Faramir a hand up.

Faramir followed him. Haldir took him up to a beautiful platform, he could see every far away, even over the great walls of Caras Galadhon. On the edge of the platform stood the Lady of this great wood.

"Lady Galadriel." Faramir bowed.

"Lord Faramir," Galadriel stepped closer and smile. "Let the grief go. Let it not cloud your mind. Gandalf would want you do only have found memories of him, not the one full of sorrow."

"My grief is still to near, to let it go." Faramir cast his eyes down.

"Don't let the grief drag you into the shadows, you must concentrate at the task ahead, Faramir son of Denethor." Galadriel touched his cheek gently.

"Yes, Lady Galadriel. I will find a way." Faramir raised his eyes again and looked into the deep blue orbs of the eldar.

"Good. But know son of the steward. Your coming to this quest as set in motion a different future. Some of the patterns are changing, some patterns are not yet weaved, some are unweave and weaved differently, some disappear forever; some stay the same. Tell me son of Denethor, why did you come, instead of your brother?" Galadriel asked.

"Because I saw his death."

"And you still came, knowing that you could die instead of him?" Galadirel's voice was full of wonder and understanding.

"Yes, I came even though it may mean my own death." Faramir answered.

Galadriel smiled gently, "You and Estel have given me hope. That Men aren't lost, that they aren't as weak as they seem."

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel." Faramir bowed his head again; he felt pride rising in his heart.

Suddenly Galadriel's smile wavered, "I have seen many things. I have seen tower of Ecthelion in flames. Your brother, Boromir, dead. He is lying on the steps of the citadel arrows piercing his body. Your father sitting on the steward's throne, Morgul blade in his heart, hands rose in surrender."

First instincts for Faramir was to run, return to his city, save it, save his father and brother. Leave the fellowship.

"_Faramir son of the house of Hurin_," Galadriel's commanding voice cut his thoughts thru. "_You react before you think. Don't let your heart be troubled. You have the sight, the gift or the curse, as some say, of the house of Hurin. You can see what will come and you can see into the hearts of men. Now look into yours and listen. My mirror shows me many things; the fall of Minas Tirith is not yet at hand. It may never occur. You know the future can be changed, not everything is set in stone. The ring must be destroyed, or what I have seen will come to pass. Your time to leave the Fellowship is not yet at hand. You will know when the time has come."_

"Yes, my lady." Faramir knew that Galadriel was right.

"Now go and rest, let the dreams come. And don't let the shadows do deep into your heart."

"I will rest, Lady Galadriel. And I hope that the shadows don't touch me yet." Faramir turned but was stopped again by the lady of the wood.

"Remember, Lord Faramir, that you are not alone. Trust Aragorn and Legolas with your visions, they can help you. You have friends, trust the fellowship."

"Yes, my lady."

When Haldir lead him back to the place where the fellowship was resting, the others had returned. Aragorn raised a questioning eyebrow at him. But Faramir needed to think before he talked to anybody. He sat on the spot beneath the tree he had previously occupied

Talking to Galadriel had given him some kind of peace and the same time his heart was heavy with dread. She had seen the fall of Minas Tirith she had seen death of his family. But she had also reminded him, that he was not alone. That he had friends, the Fellowship was with him. And that meant all hope was not lost yet.

His thoughts were disturbed by two things; Gimli's snoring and singing of the Lorien Elves:

A Olorin i yaresse

Mentaner i Numeherui

Tirien i Romenori

Maiarion i Oiosaila

Mana elye etevanne

Norie i melanelye?

"A lament for Gandalf." He heard Legolas say.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near." Legolas answered voice full of sorrow.

Faramir tried to understand but the song was in Quenya and that language of the elves he understood very little. But he understood some of it and felt great pain.

Son of Denethor felt tears prickling from his eyes. He didn't understand why, why was Gandalf taken from them? Why was he taken from the free people of Arda.

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them." He could hear Sam say and then he heard the hobbit recite a verse:

The finest rockets ever seen

They burst in stars of blue and green

Or after thunder, silver showers.

Came falling like a rain of flowers.

Faramir had to smile, it was perfect. If Sam would know what talent he possessed.

Suddenly Gimli's snores stopped and Aragorn came and sat beside him

"And what are you so amused about?" the Dúnedain asked.

"Sam, has a talent, he described Gandalf's fireworks perfectly. I have seen them only once. But it always remains in my mind. It was my mother's birthday; it was few months before she died. She had told my father that she wanted Mithrandir to be the one who made fireworks on her birthday and my father had no say in that. And as my mother said so it was done. Those fireworks were just like Sam described them. With all beautiful shapes, butterflies, birds even a dragon. You may think that the dragon was the last one, but no. He fired up one more, it burst in flames at the sky and then it landed on the ground before my mother as buds and suddenly they bloomed. They were Athelas they made a crown at my mother's feet, like she was royalty. She was happy, I had never seen her so happy. Even my father enjoyed the party." Faramir's smile had grown wider; Aragorn had never seen the other man like that.

"Yes, that his fireworks did; brought smiles to everyone's faces." Aragorn couldn't hold his own smile back.

They fell into silence; Faramir took Larsian and started cleaning it.

Aragorn lit his pipe and turned to his companion. "Will you tell me, what Lady Galadriel told you?"

"Hmm?" Faramir lifted his eye from his blade.

Aragorn started laughing, "You sounded just like Gandalf right now."

"Did I. Hmm. Good, good." Somehow he got the specific Gandalf glint in his eyes, when he said that. Aragorn couldn't hold himself and started laughing even more heartily. "You spent too much time with him."

"Oh, yes I know. So you asked me of something?"

"What did Lady Galadriel told you?" Aragorn took a drag from his pipe.

Faramir looked at him and remembered what Galadriel told him about trusting Aragorn and Legolas. So he told the other man about his and Galadriel's conversation.

"Galadriel is right. Everything is not yet lost, hope remains. The fellowship is strong." Aragorn looked at the stars when he said that.

"I know, but sometimes all I can feel is despair." Faramir sighted.

"We all too, but believe me everything is not in naught." Aragorn placed a hand on Faramir's shoulder.

"Yes, I know." He went back to cleaning Larsian.

Aragorn emptied his pipe and looked at what Faramir was doing and raised his eyebrow, "I have seen you many times in practise and in battle. But it is the first time that I recognize your blade, Larsian."

"Yes, Gandalf gave it to me." Faramir smiled.

"I guessed that." Aragorn shook his head in wonder.

"But I never learned its story. Gandalf, Glorfindel, Elendan nor Elrohi didn't tell me, when I asked. They said it wasn't theirs to tell. Now I will never know why I was given the sword what bears the words: _I'm Larsian, I protect and serve the one who is loyal."_ Faramir looked at his blade with an admiration.

"They didn't tell you because, it wasn't theirs to tell." Aragorn explained.

"Yes that they said." Started to clean the sword again, thinking that Aragorn didn't have anything to add.

But he was wrong. "It was not theirs to tell, but it is mine."

Faramir raised his head so quickly that he thought he would sprain his neck. "Yours?"

"Yes, mine, but right now is not the place or time to tell it to you. The only thing that I can tell you right now is that Larsian means in Adûnaic, old Numenorian language, reckless."

"Does it?"

"Yes and the story of this blade I will tell you some other time. But now it is time to rest, go to sleep. Let your mind rest, mellon-nin." Saying that Aragorn rose and went to his own bed. Faramir looked after him; it was the first time when Aragorn had called him friend in elvish. He shook his head and finished cleaning Larsian, when the time comes, he will understand everything.

When he finally went to bed the sleep couldn't find him, his mind was so full of thought, he needed to get rid of them and he decided to take a walk, sometimes it helped. His feet carried him to the same tree he had rested against before. But he still couldn't find any order in them.

Suddenly his thoughts were stopped when Legolas stepped next to him.

He couldn't say anything, because Legolas spoke. "I heard what you and Aragorn were speaking of."

Only thought that came to Faramir's mind was curse elven hearing. "And?"

"Were you really ready to leave the fellowship?" there was accusation in that question. "Where you really ready, to forsake your oath. To leave us on the most desperate of times?"

Faramir couldn't understand where that distrust of the elven prince had come from. What had he done, that Legolas felt like had to attack him. "I'm not going to forsake my oath. I swore to protect him; I would go to fiery pits of Mount Doom. I would protect Frodo until my dying breath."

That made Legolas take a step back and ask, "Tell me something, Faramir son of the Stewart of Gondor." Last part was spat out.

"If I can, my friend." Faramir tried to stay diplomatic. Even thoug the elf who he considered a friend was attacked him with his words.

"Tell me, when the time comes, when the ring is destroyed. And Aragorn comes to reclaim the throne of Gondor. Would you stand beside him be loyal to him or would you forsake your loyalty to him and go and stand beside you family."

Faramir couldn't answer because before he could open his mouth an order came behind Legolas. "That's enough Prince of Mirkwood, you have no right to question Lord Faramir!" There stood Lord Celeborn, "Lord Faramir don't answer to that, go and take your rest."

Faramir bowed and left, he wanted to answer to Legolas, but Lorda Celeborn had given him an order. He went to bed, trying to figure out what was the reason of mistrust from Legolas. But he couldn't find the answer. The sleep came, but his dreams were restless, they were full of death, full of fire, full of loneliness. He didn't know if they were dreams or visions, he didn't know it even in the morning when he woke.

They stayed in Lorién for two more days to rest. On the morning of the third day they were led to the banks of Anduin where three boats were waiting.

Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn gave all of them gifts something to protect them, something to make their quest bearable. They all got grey coats of the elves and Lembas, the elven bread.

Faramir was surprised when both of the eldar stepped to him, he didn't think they would give any more gifts to him, they had given enough already-

"Lord Faramir," said Lady Galadriel. "I know you are scholar more than warrior, I give you a book, full of stories and myths of the elves. It is the history of my people; you can't find this kind of book in the library of Minas Tirith." Faramir bowed and took the book.

"And here is my gift to you, son of Denethor." Lord Celeborn stepped to him. "It's a dagger made by our people, may it serve you as well as your sword." Faramir bowed and took the dagger.

"May the Valars look up on your journey and may the stars guide your way. Lord Faramir from the house of Hurin." Said Galadriel and touched his brow gently.

Faramir bowed again and stepped into the boat he shared with Merry and Pippin. Their journey continued on.


	11. Breaking of the fellowship

**AN: Here it is at last: 11****th**** chapter, I think most of you already suspect what it is about. It was hard to write it. It took me two weeks or was it even three, it is one of the longest chapters what I have written this far in this fanfiction, and I changed many things in it many times, when finally I was happy how it came out. But now without further ado, read and enjoy.**

**So to remind you this story is book and movie based. And if you find any mistahes in there, they are all mine, I don't have beta.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it; they all belong to J. R. R Tolkien**

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They had travelled down the Great River for six nights. They rested at day on the shores of Anduin. It seemed like they were in no hurry, none of them wanted to think of the decisions that would face them at Emyn Muil, not yet.

Faramir stayed far away from Legolas, they didn't talk to each other, and if they did it was only in very short sentences. Everyone knew that something had happened between Faramir and Legolas, but no one dared to question what?

When they rested for the first time that night on their journey down Anduin. Gimli was finally the one who had enough; when Legolas had gone to look ahead he approached Faramir.

"What happened between you and the elf?" Gimli grumbled.

"Nothing," Faramir really didn't want to talk about it.

"Yes, nothing happened," Gimli said gruffly, "And we all are blind as well." That had gotten all the hobbits and Aragorn's attention.

"Don't ask Gimli, I don't have the answer for you."Faramir rose from where he had sat, "I'll go and collect some firewood." And he went even though he knew Sam had found enough firewood to last the night.

"Foolish man," he heard Gimli mumble.

He was almost in the woods when Aragorn caught up with him. "Faramir!"

"Like I said, Aragorn, I don't have the answers." Faramir didn't have enough energy in him to discuss this with the Isildur's heir.

"Should I talk to Legolas, Faramir?" the Dúnedain asked.

"No, Aragorn, don't. Legolas and I shall make our peace soon." Faramir stepped into the forest and didn't look back.

He wandered aimlessly in the woods, but he never went far from the camp. Finally he found a tree stomp and sat. Where had Legolas' mistrust come from, hadn't he proven himself already? He thought that he and Legolas had become something close to friends.

Suddenly he remembered what Gandalf had said before the council about Legolas' father: _"The Father of Legolas is King Thranduil, he doesn't like Men, and he accuses them of being weak. He fought beside Men in the last Great War. But after Sauron was defeated he returned to his home to Greenwood. It was conquered by spiders and he blames the Men for that."_

Legolas was brought up believing that Men are weak. Faramir knew that the prince didn't believe that. He just didn't trust Men, except one and that was Aragorn. Faramir had thought that he had gotten the elf's trust, but it was not so, it seemed.

The feeling of disappointment was back, the disappointment at himself. He had almost gotten over it on this journey, but Legolas' mistrust had brought it back and hurt him deeply. How could he protect them, fight beside them, if they didn't trust him. It felt like he was back at citadel and his father looked at him like he had let them all down. He had almost lost that feeling, forgotten how it felt like.

"Faramir?" he looked up and there stood Merry and Pippin. Well, it would have been strange seeing one without another.

"You have been gone so long that we all got worried." Merry explained seeing Faramirs questioning eyebrow.

"My apologies, my head was so full of thoughts that I didn't notice the time flying away." He rose and then he realized who he was talking to, "What are you two doing here? These woods are not safe."

"Aragorn was with us…" Pippin started.

"…but he went the other way to search for you, and we have our swords with us…" Merry continued. They both showed him their weapons.

"…we wouldn't have gotten into any trouble, you yourself and Aragorn taught us to fight…" and there was Pippin again. Sometimes Faramir felt that if he wouldn't have known that Merry was the older one, he would think that the two Halflings were twins, because they always could finish or continue each other's sentences.

"…so we know how to protect ourselves. And Aragorn is not far away, he said to call if there is trouble and he would be here." Merry concluded.

It was the strange hobbit logic again, but who was he to argue it. "You may be right. I apologize that I snapped at you two."

"No need to apologize, Faramir, we know that you are worried about us." Merry said.

The only thing that Faramir could do was nod, instead of saying something he started picking up fallen branches.

"What are you doing?" Pippin was confused.

"When I left the camp, I said I was going to find more firewood. And I don't want to go back without it." The ranger explained, and then it occurred to him. "Where are Sam and Frodo?" He really hoped that the other two little ones weren't looking for him.

"They are back at the camp." Merry answered.

"Legolas and Gimli stayed with them. Gimli grumbled that he was not running after some foolish man and Legolas said that he would stay and guard the ring bearer." Pippin explained.

Faramir started to answer when there was a rustling of leaves behind them. He was ready to grab his sword when Aragorn stepped out from the shadows.

"Seems like Pippin and Merry are much better trackers than I am, they found you first." Aragorn smiled as he stepped beside Faramir.

"Yes, we have taught them well." When Pippin and Merry enjoyed the glory of the praises Faramir gave a questioning look to Aragron, asking what had the Dúnedain thought taking the two with him.

Aragorn rolled his eyes and whispered: "I tried to argue with them, but you know them, they would have still followed me, if I would have said no."

Faramir suppressed a chuckle and shrugged, he had argued with them enough times to know exactly how stubborn they could be.

Aragorn smiled, patted him on the shoulder and headed for the camp. Merry and Pippin followed.

"Faramir!" Merry called when he saw that the man didn't follow.

"I'm right after you, Merry." He followed them, even though he wanted a little more time by himself.

When they reached the camp side Sam and Frodo smiled, Gimli grumbled something and Legolas just nodded.

Somehow he felt that he was unwelcome, he didn't know where that feeling came from, but it had set itself in his heart and wouldn't budge. Even the log he sat on seemed like it was part of the others, far away.

He didn't speak; he needed to be alone with his thoughts. Instead he looked at the fire, how red, orange and yellow flames played over the branches. The fire had always made him curious, he didn't know why, but fire had always calmed him.

Suddenly the fire was gone, he was surrounded by shadows. They were everywhere, he couldn't breathe or move. There where people behind the shadows, he tried to yell, to call out, to ask help, but no words fell from his lips. He felt death, hatred, disappointment, pain and loneliness. He was alone; there was no one, no friends, allies. No one, and he felt fear, his heart was full of it. Then he heard a vicious whisper somewhere from the shadows: "Renewed shall be the blade that was broken and crownless again shall be king." Cruel mocking laughter followed it. Faramir backed away, shook his head and closed his eyes.

The next time he opened his eyes he was back at the camp lying on his back. The worried faces of Aragorn and Frodo leaned over him; he could see others behind them.

"Are you alright?" Frodo asked.

"Yes," everything was fuzzy; he didn't understand what was going on.

"Alright, he says, he's alright, foolish man. Everyone can see that he is not." Gimli continued with his grumbling.

"What happened?" Faramir asked confused.

"We don't know," Pippin explained. "One moment you sat there and then you went white as sheet and fell on your back."

Fog fell from his mind, he had had a vision. That was it, that's why he was confused. It was strange, he had never felt like that after a vision, this time something had been different.

"I'm alright." Faramir scrambled on his feet, he didn't want to discuss what had happened.

"No, you are not." Since when was Gimli an expert on how he felt.

"What happened?" Sam eyes were full of concern, they all were concerned.

"He had a vision." Of course Legolas knew.

"Yes, I had a vision." Faramir didn't want to talk about it. It had scared him.

"What was it about?" Aragorn came and stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Faramir didn't want to tell them but then remembered what Galadriel had told him. He needed to trust the fellowship even if one of them didn't trust him.

He told them what he saw. "I don't know what it all meant, it was so strange. I felt like I was dead, but I wasn't, it felt like the shadows had swallowed me whole. And the last part…" He couldn't finish that sentence. Everyone was silent; no one knew what to say.

Pippin, the only one who was brave enough or didn't possess the patience the others possessed, asked. "What did it all mean?"

Faramir smiled sadly. "It can mean one thing, my death."

"Faramir!" Aragorn voice was full of command and worry. "You know very well, it may not mean your death. "

"You're right it may not, but still." Faramir didn't find enough hope in his heart to agree with Aragorn.

"Go rest, Faramir, I shall wake you when it is your turn to take the watch." Aragorn gently guided him to his bedroll.

Faramir did as he was told, sleep didn't reach him for a long time and when it did it was full of death, shadows and cruel laughter.

The next morning they continued their journey down the Anduil towards Rauros. Faramir was tired and weary; the dreams hunted him even at wake. He still felt tired even though his friends hadn't woken him to take his watch; Aragorn had extended his own so Faramir could sleep.

But Faramir was use to feeling tired. When he had been at home his dreams had always troubled him they had been full of death, battles and shadows. When he reached Rivendell the dreams had stopped. He had finally slept peacefully after so many years. But when Gandalf fell the dreams returned with vengeance, he hadn't had a good night's rest for days now.

He was weary, tired and dread had settled into his heart. Something was coming and he didn't know what. He saw that the same fear had taken over his companions. Departing from the camp had been hurried. They all feared something but didn't know exactly what.

A sudden gust of wind brought him from his thoughts he raised his eyes and his breath was caught by the magnificent sight before him.

"Merry, Pippin," he caught their attention and pointed before them. "The Argonaths." Upon great pedestals founded in the deep waters stood two great kings of stone: still with blurred eyes and crannied brows they frowned upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning; in each right hand there was an axe; upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished kingdom.

"They have guarder the Northen border of Gondor almost an age, from here my homeland starts." Faramir lowered his head; such was the sight before him, he felt so little before them. So little, so small, that he couldn't even look at those powerful and mighty kings. He had seen them from afar standing there, guarding. But he had never seen them from this side. Their stony glares fell up on him, he felt like an enemy of Grondor. But he was; he was a banished Lord of Gondor. He went against his father's rule and orders, he had no right to enter Gondor, if he were to be discovered; his sentence would be death.

Aragorn calling out, "We shall pass them soon. Keep the boats in line, and as far apart as you can! Hold the middle of the stream," brought him out of his thoughts again.

They made their way between the Argonaths boats side by side like Aragorn had ordered them. He couldn't look at the magnificent guardians, but the hobbits admired them.

"They seem so familiar." Merry was the one who pointed it out.

"They should, look at Aragorn. These are Anárion and Isildur, sons of Elendil, ancestor to Aragorn." Faramir explained.

"They look like you too." Pippin was confused.

"All Gondorians look the same, stone faced, like Gandalf once said. It's from the Númenórean blood; some have it less some have it more." Faramir chuckled; he didn't know that he looked so similar to Aragorn.

They sailed on, when the sun set was near three peaks came to sight. The lowering sun gilded over them. Faramir could hear how Aragorn explained to Frodo and Sam. "Behold Tol Brandir!" pointing south to the tall peak "Upon the left stands Amon Lhaw, and upon the right is Amon Hen the Hills of Hearing and of Sight. In the days of the great kings there were high seats upon them, and watch was kept there. But it is said that no foot of manor beast has ever been set upon Tol Brandir. Ere the shade of night falls we shall come to them. I hear the endless voice of Rauros calling."

They shored at Amon Hen, Faramir felt like someone was looking at him when they pulled the boats to shore and he could hear whispering in his mind, the ring was calling, he needed to get away from Frodo, he wasn't so strong to resist the calling of the ring. As soon he could he made his retreat to the woods to go and pick some firewood.

But his plan had backfired; he had wandered around in Amon Hen for a time when he stumbled upon Frodo, who had decided to collect firewood as well, seemed like faith worked against him.

"Faramir?" Frodo asked when he saw Faramir taking a step back.

The whispering had started again this time louder. _"Faramir… Faramir… you can be king of Gondor … ruler of all the Men … You wouldn't need the heir of Isildur… you could rule them yourself … they would love you … honour you … obey you … fear you." _But he didn't want to be the king of all Men; he didn't want anyone to fear or obey him. He wanted peace and quiet, Arda with no shadows in it.

But the whispers didn't stop. _"Faramir … son of Denethor … you would be mightiest of all Men … you could have the glory… the valour… Denethor's second son could prove his worth." _But he didn't fight for valour, for the glory. He only fought for Minas Tirith and Gondor, he only fought for peace. He didn't want the ring.

"Faramir?" Frodo questioned again. That brought Faramir out from the haze. He saw the fear in Frodo's eyes. He knew that Frodo understood what just had happened.

He stepped in front of Frodo and smiled gently. "Fear not! I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway. Not where Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using the weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs, Frodo son of Drogo."

"You wouldn't?" The fear dimmed in the ring bearers eyes.

"No I wouldn't." Now he knew it, the ring didn't have any power over him, because he didn't want the things it offered. "Even when my life depended on it, I wouldn't take the ring from you. It wouldn't bring peace to Gondor, but destruction."

"Thank you." It was all Frodo could say.

"No need." Then he heard something, this was not right. "Frodo you must go. Something is not right, go somewhere safe. Go find Aragorn. Now!" Frodo ran has fast as he could.

Faramir looked around he couldn't understand where the threat would come from, he ran towards the camp side. He stopped again listening, he could hear running, clanging of the armour, heavy footsteps. Those sounds weren't gordorian he knew how Gondor's armours clang and how heavy their footsteps were. Those warriors weren't Citadel's guards or Ithilien rangers. There was only one other possibility - orcs.

He started to run, he didn't know where. He reached a clearing and sighed in relief, there stood Merry and Pippin. "Thank the Valar."

"Faramir, what wrong?" Merry didn't understand.

"Something is coming, we need to go back to the camp." He had just gotten the words out when Pippin cried and pointed behind him, his and Merry's eyes were full of terror. Faramir turned around and saw what had filled his heart with dread: Uruk-hai.

"Run!" he yelled to the Halflings, and at the same time crabbed his bow from his back and started shooting arrows as fast as he could, he didn't even look if he hit or where he hit.

But that was not enough, there were too many. He threw away his bow took his sword and started to back away. He took his horn with his other hand tried to call help but it was torn from his hand and he couldn't do anything about it. He raised his sword and with a battle cry charged into the hoard of Uruk-hai. He fought with all of his might, enemies fell on his right and left. He didn't know how many he had killed already when he heard a cry that split his heart in two.

The Uruk-hais had crabbed Merry and Pippin, he charged at them. He took his elven dagger from his belt and trusted it into the neck of the one who held Pippin. And hit his elbow into the face of the one who held Merry. He got the hobbits free and attacked again. He killed another one when sudden pain stopped him; he looked down and saw an arrow in his left shoulder. He fell to his knees from the pain, he collected himself and raised his eyes and saw another wave of Uruk-hai coming towards him and amongst them was their leader who held a bow.

He bit his lip and rose; it had felt so familiar this place now he knew why: this had been the place where his brother had died; he had tried to save the hobbits.

Well, Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel had told him that some patterns of the future were changed but some things in them stayed the same. That had meant instead of Boromir it was him who had to die.

If it meant that, so it should be. He wouldn't let them take the little ones. He charged them again he was trying to get to the leader but before he could the leader let another arrow lose and it nicked Faramir's right thigh. But he didn't give up he fought with everything that was left in him and then he felt himself weakening. He fell again and as soon his knees touched the ground he could here Merry's and Pippin's cries, he knew they had been taken. The Uruk-hai put another arrow on his bow and stood over him it was his execution and he accepted it, he had done all he could.

Suddenly there was a battle cry and he saw how the Uruk-hai was pushed away from him. It was Aragon, he knew his voice. He couldn't watch he didn't have enough energy in him. He closed his eyes and listened to the battle continuing. It was moments later when someone leaned over him and Aragorn whispered, "Faramir."

He opened his eyes and looked at his friend, who was looking at his wounds, "Leave it, Aragorn; go after the little ones. I can handle these wounds and if not I'll die. They have the little ones, I couldn't save them."

"Be quiet, Mellon-nin." Aragorn ordered.

"No, Aragorn, go save them! Leave me, I'm already dying. You have been a great friend, brother even. I would have gladly served you, followed you …"

But Aragorn didn't listen. "You are not dead yet, mellon-nin. Don't swear your fealty to me; wait until you are well enough to mean your words." And he went back to inspect Faramir'a wounds

At that moment Legolas and Gimli reached them. Faramir sighed there was one more thing he needed to do before he died.

"Legolas," he whispered. The elf came closer, "I still own you an answer. I would never sell my beliefs not even for my father's love. Please remember that." Legolas nodded. Now Faramir had made his peace and could die. He passed out when Aragorn pushed the arrow through his shoulder.


	12. Hunt

**A/N: Here is the 12****th**** chapter, it is longest so far. So read and enjoy.**

**So to remind you this story is book and movie based. And if you find any mistahes in there, they are all mine, I don't have beta.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth and the characters in it; they all belong to J. R. R Tolkien**

* * *

_Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows_

_The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes._

„_What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?_

_Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?"_

„_I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;_

_I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away_

_Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more._

_The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor."_

„_O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,_

_But you came not from the empty lands where no men are."_

_From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sand hills and the stones;_

_The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans._

„_What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?_

_Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve."_

„_Ask not of me where he doth dwell, so many bones there lie_

_On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;_

_So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea._

_Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!"_

„_O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south,_

_But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth."_

_From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;_

_And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls._

„_What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?_

_What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away."_

„_Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought._

_His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought._

_His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;_ -

_And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast."_

„_O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze_

_To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days."_

He knew those voices, but he couldn't place them, they seemed so familiar. But from where -he didn't know. Everything was dark and peaceful. Strangely he would have gladly stayed in that darkness. But something or someone was dragging him out off it. He felt how the darkness was dismantling and he was rising to consciousness.

He opened his eyes; the air was filled with the scent of dewy mornings of unshadowed sun... Spring is itself but a fleeting memory. Aragorn sat beside him, in his hands Faramir could see little plant leaves – Kingsfoil or in elvish Athelas, that had been the smell.

"You are finally awake." The Northern Ranger said.

Faramir wanted to ask how long he was unconscious but seemed like his mouth had a mind of its own, "Who sang?"

"Sang? No one did?" Aragorn was confused, that feeling had become too familiar for him on this quest.

"But someone did." Faramir looked around in bewilderment and looked again at Aragorn. "It was you and Legolas."

"No we didn't sing. What was the song about?" Aragorn raised his hand and checked Faramir's temperature. No, the other man didn't have a fever.

"I don't know, I think it was a Lament for Boromir." Those were the strangest words he had ever said.

Finally Aragorn understood what it could have been. "Maybe you saw or heard what could have been if you hadn't taken his place?"

"Yes that could be it." Finally he could ask the question he had indented to ask when he woke up. "How long has it been?"

"You were unconscious at least an hour and little more. I cleaned you wounds. On the leg you have only a flesh wound and I bandaged it. I'm more worried about the on your shoulder, I pushed the arrow through and sew the wounds…"

Faramir interrupted him. "Sew?"

"It is an old dúnedain trick. The wounds will heal quicker that way. I bandaged them also; I want you to wear a sling at least two days, Athelas will keep the pain at minimum. If we were in better circumstances I would tell you to rest for ten days, but we are not." Aragorn lifted his hand again as to check Faramir for temperature, but stopped remembering that he had already done that, "Can you stand?"

"Why?" Faramir could not understand.

"We have to go after the Uruk-hai."

"Leave me; I would only slow you down." Faramir couldn't understand anything.

"No one is going to be left behind." But it was not Aragorn who said that, it was Legolas who was leaning against a tree nearby.

"The elf is right." Gimli lowered a back bag beside Aragorn. Faramir recognized it as his.

"If you are sure." Faramir sighed, he knew it was going to be painful; he had been wounded enough times to know. But strangely when he finally stood, there was no pain, the wounds only stung. He raised an eyebrow at Aragorn in question.

"Athelas lessens the pain. Its effect lasts for few hours." Aragorn explained; then took a cloth he was going to use as a sling; he fastened it on Faramir's shoulder. While he did that Legolas and Gimli gathered everything they needed.

Faramir breathed in and took a step. The leg didn't hurt much and neither did the shoulder. Maybe he could endure the chase.

"Where are Frodo and Sam?" it suddenly occurred to him that he didn't see the ring bearer and his faithful servant.

"I let them go; Frodo decided that he would continue his journey alone, Sam went along. I would have gone to the fires of the Mount Doom with him." Aragorn answered sadly.

"As would had I. But seems that destiny had other plans." Faramir took Larsian from Legolas.

"Yes, so it seems. I took your dagger out from the orcs neck where you put it and gathered your arrows." Legolas handed the things to Faramir. "And I found this." with a sad look Legolas handed some strange piece to the man. Faramir took it and turned it around i, it was white and on it a gray wolf it was surrounded with elven ornaments. It seemed familiar but he didn't recognize it. Faramir looked questioningly at Legolas.

"It is piece of your horn. I think Glorfindel would be very sad if you lost his entire gift." The elven prince answered. That was Legola's peace offering.

"Thank you." Faramir smiled.

The afternoon was fading as they came back to the glade where the fight had taken place. There they picked up the trail of the Orcs.

"No other folk makes such a trampling," said Legolas. "It seems their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even in their way."

"But they go with a great speed for all that," said Aragorn, "and they do not tire. And later we may have to search for our path in hard bare lands."

"Well, after them!" said Gimli. "Dwarves too can go swiftly, and they do not tire sooner than Orcs. But it will be a long chase: they have a long start."

"Yes," said Aragorn, "we shall all need the endurance of Dwarves. But come! With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies. And woe to them, if we prove the swifter! We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Forth the Four Hunters!"

They followed the tracks the Uruk-hai had left. But soon it was too dark to see the right tracks.

"Let's rest until the dawn comes. It is an hour or two away." Aragorn ordered. Faramir fell asleep as soon as his head set on the bedroll. He was so exhausted, his body needed rest but he had decided to join the hunt. Somewhere along the tracking he had started doubting in the wisdom of his decision, had it been wise to come to the chase. But he couldn't turn back now; he had made a promise to protect the little ones.

It was two hours later when Legolas woke them and they gathered their camp together Aragorn turned to Faramir, "How is the pain?"

"How to put it," Faramir had to think a little, "Well if I would be given a choice to be in this pain or give a report to the Steward. I would choose this pain."

Aragorn chuckled, "And what does that exactly means?"

"That means, that I have suffered greater pain than this." Faramir smiled, the pain wasn't so bad.

"That means you don't need any Athelas?" Aragorn was curious, did the Athelas have so long of a effect on the younger man.

"No, I don't need the kingsfoil. I'm quite alright." Faramir was sure of himself.

"Alright, let's continue the chase." Aragorn was not as confident as Faramir in the level of the other man's pain, but he didn't have the time to argue with the son of steward.

They found the tracks again, but suddenly Legolas stopped and looked at Aragorn.

"Did you notice it as well?" he asked.

"You mean?" Aragorn answered with a question.

"That they haven't crossed the river? These orcs are not Sauron's." Faramir didn't understand what they were talking about. He was in no condition to follow the tracks, he followed Aragorn and Legolas.

"Yes," Aragorn looked towards the north, "They are heading to North, towards Fargorn and Isengrad."

"Saruman, that false-hearted wizard." Gimli's voice was full of anger.

"He wants the ring for himself," Faramir could only conclude. "But he didn't know which hobbit carried it."

"We must hurry if they reach Isengard, we will have no hope of getting them back." Aragorn urged them on.

The woods became mountains, the terrain got trickier. The dale ran like a stony trough between the ridged hills, and a trickling stream flowed among the boulders at the bottom. A cliff frowned upon their right; to their left rose grey slopes, dim and shadowy in the late night. They went on for a mile or more northwards.

They found five dead orcs, no traces of fight as it should have been if the Uruk-hais were attacked by the enemy. Seemed like there was bad water amongst the Uruk-hais and orcs.

That gave them hope that meant there was better change of catch them if the drift stayed amongst them, before they reached into the safety of Isengard.

Aragorn found the right tracks again and they followed them. The sun was colouring the sky with pink, orange, violet hews, the day was arriving and they had already crossed three leagues in the early hours.

The terrain was changing again, Faramir knew that soon the mountains would end and the green fields of Rohan would start. Just at the borders of two kingdoms Aragorn stopped and cried.

"_Gondor! Gondor, between the Mountains and the Sea!_

_West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree_

_Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old._

_O proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and throne of gold!_

_O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,_

_Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea?"_

Then he turned to Faramir. "We will return."

"Yes we will." Faramir confirmed. He looked behind him where his homeland lay, he was not as confident as he had sounded, but he knew that even if he died, his friends would bring him back here.

"Let us go!" Aragorn ordered and Faramir followed. They headed to the north-west leaving the south behind.

Something had changed in Faramir, he couldn't place it. Maybe turning down the ring had finally freed him, maybe that's why he could breathe more clearer. The shadow was leaving him. And at the same time the clearness could be from Athelas.

The ridge upon which the companions stood went down steeply before their feet. Below it twenty fathoms or more, there was a wide and rugged shelf which ended suddenly in the brink of a sheer cliff: the East Wall of Rohan. So ended the Emyn Muil, and the green plains of the Rohirrim stretched away before them to the edge of sight.

Legols stood on the edge and looked far ahead. "What can you see eagle eye?" Gimli asked.

"Many things," said Legolas. „It is a great company on foot; but I cannot say more, nor see what kind of folk they may be. They are many leagues away: twelve, I guess; but the flatness of the plain is hard to measure."

„I think, nonetheless, that we no longer need any trail to tell us which way to go," said Gimli. „Let us find a path down to the fields as quick as may be."

„I doubt if you will find a path quicker than the one that the Orcs chose," said Aragorn.

They found the path that took them down to the plains of Rohan. Now with every step Faramir could feel how his wounds started hurting more and more. The Athelas power was growing weaker. But he didn't tell his companions of the pain his was in. He pressed on, they were on a hunt and the little ones lives were more important than his wounds.

He tried to think what Boromir was doing, to forget the pain. Was he alright, could he still stand up to their father when his little brother was not at his sided. Had Boromir forgiven him, doing what he did? Leaving only a letter for explanation and goodbye. Leaving his older brother behind to protect Minas Tirith and Gondor alone, going against their fathers orders and getting banished.

He couldn't continue on with his thoughts because Aragorn suddenly stepped aside of the path and picked something up.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall." Faramir could see the thing Aragorn had picked up, it was the same leaf that attached to their cloaks.

Legolas took the leaf, "They may yet be alive."

Aragon touched the ground, "Less than a day ahead of us. Come." They pursuit on, there was no time to rest. Thankfully, it seemed that the Uruk-hais were slowing down; on the fields full of grass their iron-shoes didn't carry them as fast as they had on the hills.

Faramir felt how his shoulder and leg were on fire. He wanted to collapse and never move again, but he resisted, he had decided to go on the chase and he wouldn't give up.

They had run all day, the dusk was falling and soon it was dark, they decided to rest. As soon they stopped, Faramir let go of his control and collapsed.

"Faramir!" At plink of an eye Aragorn was at his side and supported him. "How bad is the pain?"

"I would gladly give a report to the Steward." Faramir said through gritted teeth.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Legolas, who was supporting him from his other side. They placed him against a tree.

"I did not want to be a burden; we were making a good chase. We covered twelve leagues today." Faramir answered, as soon he could lay down the pain lessened.

"You are not a burden." Gimli growled he had enough of the man's misery.

"If Gandalf was here, he would say to you something about pride, stubbornness and blood of the house of the Hurin." Grumbled Aragorn, searching his bag for the Athelas.

"We don't need Gandalf to say it, you already did." Faramir send a sly smile to his leader.

Aragorn chuckled, "It is good to know that you have not lost your sense of humour."

"Only at my death."

Aragorn checked all his wounds, "You pulled you stitches, that's why it hurts so much. This time I sew them stronger and tighter." He took a needle and string from his bag. When he finished he continued. "No sign of an infection. It will be healed in two or so weeks. Thankfully it is not your sword hand and the Athelas keeps the pain minimum." Aragorn took the Athelas and rubbed it between his hands. The air was filled with its smell and Faramir felt how the pain dissolved into a sting.

"Good." Was all Faramir could say.

"Eat this," Legolas trusted a lembas into his hand. "And then you need to rest."

Faramir did as he was told, he took the lembas ate and then turned himself into the bedroll, but he didn't fall asleep. He turned to Aragorn who had placed his own bedroll right from his. "I didn't take the ring, it offered itself to me, but I didn't accept it. I found that I didn't want the things it offered."

"Frodo offered it to me. I didn't take it either. It seems we are both stronger than we thought." Aragorn said.

"Yes, so it seems." Saying that Faramir felt how his eyes closed before he could turn to his other side.

He slept through the night, no dreams or visions disturbed him and even the pain didn't keep him up. Faramir woke when Aragorn rose. He could see how Aragorn went to Legolas who seemed to have been up for quite a while. They discussed something but Faramir couldn't hear what they said. He rose and woke Gimli.

Aragorn turned to him, "How is the pain?"

"A sting, nothing more." Faramir answered and he was truthful.

"If it starts hurting more, please tell us. So I can check what has happened." Aragorn upbraided him.

"Yes, I know." Faramir felt ashamed for not telling them yesterday.

With that they continued their hunt, the sun rose higher and soon it was warming the grass they ran on. The spring was coming there was no doubt about that.

Legolas rose onto a cliff. "I fear they have passed beyond my sight from hill or plain, under moon or sun."

Aragorn had lay down to the ground and listened, "If the sight fails, then the ground doesn't lie, I can hear our enemy they have quickened their space. I am afraid they have picked up our scent." Gimli cursed in Khuzdul. Aragorn hushed him, "Also I can hear horses, many of them, they disturbed me at my sleep. They travelled in night and that is not usual something is wrong at this country.

They moved on and quickened their pace also. Thankfully Faramir's shoulder or leg didn't start hurting as much as they had the day before. When the dusk fell again they had covered another twelve leagues. They continued until the night fell and it was too dark to follow the tracks.

They slept until Legolas woke them. "Awake!" he cried, "The red dawn is rising, that means no good." He turned to Aragorn, "There are strange things happening in this country, I don't like it."

"Neither do I, may it be evil or good, we must continue." Aragon answered, then turned to Faramir, "How are your wounds?"

"The pain is much less than yesterday."

"Good, I think it is time to remove your sling, let us see how your arm and shoulder respond to that. If they are alright with it, you do not need to wear it anymore." Aragorn took the sling off from Faramir's shoulder. Son of Denethor moved his shoulder, it hurt a little but not as it done day before yesterday. He smiled at Aragorn questioning eyebrow, "Everything is well right now." Aragorn nodded and they continued on.

The sun had risen to noon when Aragorn laid down. He listened and suddenly his eyes grew wide. "Riders," he cried.

"Yes," said Legolas, "there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall. They are only five leagues away from here."

"We can't escape them." Gimli said.

"No, they are riders of Rohan, their horses fast." Faramir confirmed Gimli's thought.

"We shall wait them." Aragom decided. "I am weary, and our hunt has failed. Or at least others were before us; for these horsemen are riding back down the orc-trail. We may get news from them."

"There are three empty saddles, but I see no hobbits," said Legolas.

"I did not say that we should hear good news," said Aragorn. "But evil or good we will await it here."

They made their way down from the hill where they had stopped and placed themselves on a little above the hill's foot they halted, and wrapping their cloaks about them, they sat huddled together upon the faded grass. The time passed slowly and heavily.

"Should we be worried?" Gimli asked uneasily.

"What should you be worried about?" Aragorn asked.

"But Gandalf spoke of a rumour that they pay tribute to Mordor." Said Gimli.

"As I told you before, Gimli son of Gloin." Faramir pulled his cloak more heavily around him, he sat between Aragorn and Legolas, but the wind was still cold and his body was weak from the wounds. "Rohirrim are proud people, and stubborn, some times more than Gordorians. They do not take orders from no one but from their King and King Theoden does not take orders from anyone. They love their horses; they will die before they give them to Mordor."

"You will soon learn the truth," said Legolas. "They already approach."

And they all heard it like a thunder approach, many horses they rode past them. Their horses were of great stature, strong and clean-limbed; their grey coats glistened, their long tails flowed in the wind, their manes were braided on their proud necks. The Men that rode them matched them well: tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale, flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees.

In pairs they galloped by, and though every now and then one rose in his stirrups and gazed ahead and to either side, they appeared not to perceive the three strangers sitting silently and watching them. The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice:

"What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?"

With astonishing speed and skill they checked their steeds, wheeled, and came charging round. Soon the four companions found themselves in a ring of horsemen moving in a running circle, up the hill-slope behind them and down, round and round them, and drawing ever inwards. Aragorn stood silent, and the other three sat without moving, wondering what way things would turn.

Suddenly they were surrounded by horses and spears were pointed at their face.

"What business does an elf, two men, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!" The Leader cried.

"Give me your name, horse-master and I shall give you mine." Gimli grumbled.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." The leader answered.

Legolas drew his bow, "You would die before your stroke fell."

Faramir wanted to all three of them, didn't they know anything about diplomacy. He saw Aragon placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder stopping him from making a foolish mistake. "We are hunting orcs, I'm Aragorn of Arathorn, this is Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood, Gimli son of Gloin and Faramir son of Denethor."

Faramir felt how the eyes of the leader turned to him; how he wished he had another name to go by. "Faramir son of Denethor, there is a word that you should be captured where you stand and brought back to Minas Tirith for execution as a traitor."

Now Faramir felt himself growing angry, he finally recognised the leader, even if he had seen him twice from afar, "There is a word, Eomer son of Eomund, that Gondor's Stewart has no power on these lands since the days of Cirion who gave these lands to Eorl the Young to build his kingdom up on them, after the battle against the Balchoth. Gondor only holds a friendship to Rohan."

He felt Aragon's hand on his shoulder, the anger dissolved and he understood that he himself had forgotten diplomacy.

Aragorn stepped quickly between them, "We are friends of Rohan and Theoden your king."

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." Eomer removed his helmet, "Not even his own kin. Son of the Stewart was right I'm Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark. You have not answered my question. What are you doing on these lands?"

"First tell me whom you serve," said Aragorn. "Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"

"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden King son of Thengel." Eomer answered and returned the question. "But who do you serve, from whose orders you hunt orcs in these lands?"

"I serve no man," Aragorn said, "The Orcs whom we pursued took captive two of my friends."

"That you need not pursue them further," said Eomer. "The Orcs are destroyed."

"And our friends?"

"We found none but Orcs."

"But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?" Gimli shivered.

"They would be small, only children to your eyes." Aragorn explained. Faramir stayed quiet he had already said too much.

"We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." There was sad look in Eomers eyes.

"Dead?" deep sight came from Gimli. Faramir placed a hand on Gimli's shoulder Legolas did the same.

"I'm sad for you loss." Eomer whistled, "Hasufel, Arod, Helden," three white horses came riding towards them, "These horses have no riders, take them and let them bring you better luck then their former riders. But now we have to go, farewell Aragorn son of Arathorn, Gimli son of Gloin, Legolas of Mirkwood," he turned to Faramir, "And you Faramir son of Denethor, your brother was right, you are quick minded. If I did not know about the things I know about you, I would have sent you to Minas Tirith. You own many thanks to Boromir."

"I know, Eomer son of Eomund, I own many thanks to my brother since my childhood. And I'm glad he has such a friend as you." Faramir bowed.

"Farewell, Faramir," Eomer cried a command and the riders rode towards Edoras.

"We must go; the hope is not lost yet." Aragorn jumped on Hasufel, Legolas and Gimli raised both on Arod.

Yes, the hope is not lost yet, Faramir thought when he rode on Helden after his companions.

* * *

**A/N: So did you really think I could kill Faramir. I would never kill him, he is one of my favourite characters. I got a shock after last chapter; my friend asked if I indented marry Boromir and Eowyn. I asked her why she thought that. She answered but you killed Faramir. That was such a compliment to me. So as you can see, Faramir is still alive and is going to stay alive **


	13. In the shadows of Fangorn

**A/N: Finally I have done it, here is the next chapter. I'm sorry, it took me so long to write it, but here it is, so enjoy!**

* * *

They rode onwards as fast as they could; it felt like Morgoth himself was after them. Faramir swallowed his tears, he could not let his emotions get the better of him; what would his father think; he was stronger than that. He froze, where had that thought come from, he was worried about the little ones, not what his father though; his father was far away. Denethor couldn't reach him. Faramir was out of the reach of the ring, he had overcome its influence; it had no power over him anymore, it couldn't play its games with him. So why was he concerned about his father's thought when truly his concern lay in the whereabouts of the little ones.

Pippin and Merry could not be dead, they just couldn't. He was losing all his friends; they were dropping like flies, like someone had put a curse on him. He was losing everyone he cared about.

"Faramir," he turned his head to his right where Legolas and Gimli were riding, "The shadow is reaching for you, let it not catch you. All hope is not lost yet, they may be alive."

"Listen to what the elf says, he maybe a pointy-eared princling, but he is usually right." Gimli crabbed onto the seat stronger, because the stead made a sudden sharp turn to right. Faramir could see Legolas smirking.

"That is a high praise from a hole-digger as superior as you." Gimli humped something about that, but Faramir couldn't understand, because it was in Khuzdul. He saw Aragorn grinning, but the grin didn't reach his eyes, he knew that they tried to lift each other spirits. But it was not working; they all knew that any hope that the hobbits survived was at naught.

Too soon for Faramir's liking they saw a great forest and smoke that still rose from the funeral pyre in front of it.

The horses stopped abruptly, the others dismounted, but he couldn't, he didn't want to. He closed his eyes and swallowed, the smell of burning flesh brought a vile taste to his mouth. He fought hard to not lose the lempas he had eaten.

"It's one of their wee belts." He heard Gimli say.

He finally opened his eyes and saw Aragorn hit a helmet in despair, his cry of anguish, stopped Faramir's heart.

"We failed them." Gimli muttered. Cold hand squeezed Faramir's heart, they didn't fail the hobbits – he had. He should have fought harder; he should not have given up when he did. If he hadn't surrendered to the exhaustion and pain if he would have fought to his last dying breath, the little ones just might be alive.

"A hobbit lay here, and the other." Aragorn words didn't register to him, actually it didn't mean anything to him; his little friends were gone.

"They crawled. Their hands were bound. Their bonds were cut." Faramir raised his head with a snap, could it be, could it really be. He dismounted as quickly as he could, his leg protested, but it didn't matter to him, Aragorn's words had given him hope.

Aragorn followed the tracks on. "They ran over here. The tracks lead away from the battle into Fangorn Forest." At that Faramir felt how the cold left his body, he could move again. Merry and Pippin were still alive, but then name sank in, Fangorn!

"Fangorn Forest, what madness drove them in there?" Gimli asked the question that haunted everyone's mind.

"It was the only place they could run for safety" Aragorn concluded. Faramir understood that, if he was so small and he had a choice between being trampled by the horses or run into a strange forest, he would have chosen the latter.

"Legolas, can your elf eyes see through the trees, can you see them?" Gimli asked urgently, his voice was full of anxiety.

"The forest is thick and the night is falling, I cannot be sure what I am seeing." Legolas answered.

"We need to rest and make a camp. It is not wise to enter into these woods at night." Aragorn decided.

A little way beyond the battle-field they made their camp under a spreading tree: it looked like a chestnut, and yet it still bore many broad brown leaves of a former year, like dry hands with long splayed fingers; they rattled mournfully in the night-breeze.

Gimli shivered. They had brought only one blanket apiece. "Let us light a fire," he said. "I care no longer for the danger. Let the Orcs come as thick as summer-moths round a candle!"

"If those unhappy hobbits are astray in the woods, it might draw them hither," said Legolas.

"And it might draw other things, neither Orc nor Hobbit," said Aragorn. "We are near to the mountain-marches of the traitor Saruman. Also we are on the very edge of Fangorn, and it is said to be perilous to touch the trees of that wood."

"But the Rohirrim made a great burning here yesterday," said Gimli, "and they felled trees for the fire, as can be seen. Yet they passed the night after safely here, when their labour was ended."

"They were many," said Aragorn, "and they do not heed the wrath of Fangorn, for they come here seldom, and they do not go under the trees. But our paths are likely to lead us into the very forest itself. So have a care! Cut no living wood!"

"There is no need," said Gimli. "The Riders have left chip and bough enough, and there is dead wood lying in plenty." He went off to gather fuel, and busied himself with building and kindling a fire; but Aragorn sat silent with his back to the great tree, deep in thought; and Legolas stood alone in the open, looking towards the profound shadow of the wood, leaning forward, as one who listens to voices calling from a distance. Faramir rubbed his shoulder, the day had been rough on his wounds, but sitting in the saddle had been much better then running the distance it would have taken to reach the Fangorn.

"How is your shoulder fairing?" Aragorn rose and came to sit next to his young friend.

"Well, I don't have a sudden urge to give a report to the steward."

Aragorn chuckled, "Good to know. Now let me look at your wounds, the riding couldn't have been too good for your leg."

When the Dwarf had a small bright blaze going, the four companions drew close to it and sat together, shrouding the light with their hooded forms. Legolas looked up at the boughs of the tree reaching out above them.

"Look!" he said. "The tree is glad of the fire!"

He was right, it seemed like the trees were warming themselves.

"Aragorn, Celeborn warned us about these woods, do you know why?" Legolas tried to understand the mystery.

"You are an elf, you should know the answer." Gimli grumbled.

"And you are a dwarf; to you know everything about rhinestones?" Legolas shot back. Aragorn and Faramir exchanged looks; no one could ever know how Gimli would react. They breathed out in relief when Gimli started laughing.

"I know a little, but it is not much. I have heard many tales in Gondor and Rohan," said Aragorn, "but if it were not for the words of Celeborn I should deem them only fables that Men have made as true knowledge fades. I had thought of asking you about the truth of the matter. And if an Elf of the Wood does not know, how shall a Man answer?" then he looked at Faramir, "What do you know, most of the stories I have heard have come from Minas Tirith and Gondor."

"I know as little as you. And what Gandalf has told me." Faramir answered. His three companions sent questioning look at his way. Faramir almost laughed, they looked so similar, but he stopped himself and answered, "When I was eight, I skipped my studies and wandered around in the library and found a tapestry made by my great-great-grandmother. On it was great forest. It seemed like the trees were alive, it enchanted me. When Gandalf finally found me, it was pass the dinner time. I got earful from him, for quitting my studies, but when he saw what had kept me, he understood. I asked him about the stories of the Fangorn, he just smiled and told me in his cryptic way, that on Arda there were some mysteries, that needed to stay mysteries. He saw my disappointed look and chuckled, "In Fangorn Forest lives something much older than the first-borns." then he walked away. When I was older I realized that he was talking about the Ents. This forest is old."

"Yes, it is old,' said Aragorn, "as old as the forest by the Barrow-downs, and it is far greater. Elrond says that the two are akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Elder Days, in which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept. Yet Fangorn holds some secret of its own. What it is I do not know."

"And I do not wish to know," said Gimli. "Let nothing that dwells in Fangorn be troubled on my account!"

They now drew lots for the watches, and the lot for the first watch fell to Gimli. The others lay down. Almost at once sleep laid hold on them. "Gimli!" said Aragorn drowsily. "Remember, it is perilous to cut bough or twig from a living tree in Fangorn. But do not stray far in search of dead wood. Let the fire die rather! Call me at need!"

With that he fell asleep. Legolas already lay motionless, his fair hands folded upon his breast, his eyes unclosed, blending living night and deep dream, as is the way with Elves, Faramir had made himself comfortable, it was warm by the fire, maybe, he could finally sleep to the night until his watch, what started few hours before the dawn. Gimli sat hunched by the fire, running his thumb thoughtfully along the edge of his axe. The tree rustled. There was no other sound.

Faramir was almost at sleep when something occurred to him and he chuckled.

"What is so amusing, that you can't enter into Lórien lands, Faramir?" Gimli grumbled.

"I apologizes Gimli, but it is strange to think that a dwarf of your standing is afraid of the forest."

When Gimli didn't shot something back at him, Faramir opened his eyes and raised his head, "Cat got your tongue, master dwarf?" But Gimli still didn't answer, he was looking at the forest, suddenly he was up, his fast movements woke Legolas and Aragorn. They all rose and saw what had got Gimli troubled, on the edge of the forest stood an old man. If Faramir would have been more superstitious, he would have thought that it was Saruman and he was there to but a spell on them. But the man didn't move or say a word.

"Well, father, what can we do for you?" said Aragorn, leaping to his feet. "Come and be warm, if you are cold!" He strode forward, but the old man was gone.

Suddenly Legolas cried, "The horses, the horses are gone." And so they were. They could hear far off in the night, the sound of horses whinnying and neighing.

"We don't have any chance to catch them. Tomorrow we are on foot again." Aragorn declared and, he rubbed his eyes and took his place again.

"Oh, only us can have that kind of fortune." Gimli said and sat back at the fire, keeping his axe close.

The night was restless; the old man had entered doubts in their minds. It could have been Saruman, but the old man had worn a hat not a hood. That thought occurred to Faramir when he took his watch few hours before the dawn. He remembered from his childhood how his mother had described different between Mithrandir and Saruman, that one wears a hat and other a hood. If he had not seen how Gandalf fell, he would have thought that it was his old mentor. But Gandalf was dead and not coming back. And the false-hearted wizard had no courage to come near them.

He stroked the fire, it was going out and Faramir didn't want to wander into the woods to find more branches. And the dawn was closing; he didn't need more light and his cape and the blanked he had kept him warm.

He could hear through Gimli's snoring, ruffle of the leaves, the birds that were starting to wake up and horses whine somewhere. But it came so afar that if the horse was one of theirs they had no chance to catch them.

When the first lights of the sun glided their resting place, Aragorn and Legolas started stirring, but Gimli kept snoring on.

"Gimli, wake up." Aragorn shook Gimli's shoulder.

"Hmrph," was the only sound that Gimli made when he opened his eyes, "Are we under an attack?"

"No we are not, but I would not be surprised, with your snoring even the most incompetent orc would find us. It is dawn, time to wake up and start the day." Legolas offered a hand to help Gimli up.

"Of course always blame the dwarf." Gimli growled but Faramir could see a smile on his faces when he rose.

They gathered their things and stood at the edge of the forest, "We have to get moving, if we want to find Merry and Pippin." Aragorn said, Faramir could see, that he was still bothered by the old man and Celeborns warning was still fresh in Isildurs Heirs mind.

Faramir placed his hand on Aragorn shoulder, "We don't have to wander far, the little ones could not have ran to deep into the forest, they were scared and weary, we will find them soon."

Aragorn nodded and together they stepped into Fangorn. Faramir looked behind him and saw Gimli and Legolas exchanging looks of worry, and then reached to some kind of an understanding and followed them into the woods.

At that Faramir remembered what Mithrandir said to him once: "You need friends, because without friends a man have nothing, they support you and help you see things that you yourself can't. They are there to remind you that worth living even if it feels like that there is nothing to live for anymore."

He had found his friends, who where true, not those who had tried to befriend him just to rise through the ranks. It was strange how this quest had changed him. Made him stronger, make him see things in different light.

* * *

He did not know how long they had journeyed to the forest, when he finally understood what the feeling his been having was, the forest frightened him. It was interesting how he associated every forest with a different kind of feeling, Ithilien was freedom; Rivendell was warmth and comfort, Lórien was safety and Fangorn now was fear.

"The air is so close in here." Gimli muttered. He was right. Since they had entered the forest Faramir had felt how hard it was to breathe.

"This forest is old. Very old, full of memory and anger." Legolas voice was full of sadness, and remorse. They could hear how the trees moaned; Gimli raised his axe as to protect himself.

"Gimli. Lower you axe." Aragorn whispered a command.

"They have feelings my friend." Legolas explained to the dwarf, "The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings?" Gimli grumbled when he lowered his axe.

Faramir listened, but he was distracted, because something was not right, he didn't know what but he had a feeling and his feelings were never wrong. Something moved before them, Faramir got a confirmation to his feelings when Legolas muttered to Aragorn, "Aragorn, nad no ennas*."

"Man cenich*?" Aragorn questioned.

"The White Wizard Approaches." Legolas declared.

"Do not let him speak, he will put a spell on us. We must be quick." The Faramir and Legolas draw their bows, Aragorn had his sword out and Gimli raised his axe, they were ready to fight. When the old man approached all their weapons burned in their hands and fell to the forest floor.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits." The old man from last night said.

"Where are they?" Aragorn commanded. Faramir was ready to draw his sword if needed, but he let Aragorn take the lead.

"They passed this way, day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" The man explained, but he still didn't step out from the light.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn demanded, the old man stepped out from the light.

"It cannot be." Aragorn was amazed when he fell to his knees.

"Forgive me! I mistook you for Saruman." Legolas cried and bowed Gimli followed. Faramir fell to his knees as Aragorn had done he felt tears in his eyes, his oldest friend was alive and well.

"Well met, Legolas, and yes I am Saruman," Gandalf answered, "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell." Aragorn muttered.

"Through fire, and water." Gandalf took a step closer, "On the lowest dungeon, on the highest peak I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth." His eyes were in distant like he was remembering, "Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me and I stayed out of thought and time. The stars field of end, and every day was as long as a life age on the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf." Aragorn said and rose.

"Yes, Gandalf, that is what they called me, Gandalf the Grey, now I'm Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide." Gandalf answered and then he took a step towards Faramir, who was still on his knees, tears running down his face, "Is this how you greet your old friend and mentor?" Gandalf asked offering Faramir a hand up. Faramir raised his eyes, tears mixed with laughter.

"No, this is how I greet my old friend and mentor." He rose and bulled Gandalf into a thigh hug, "I'm glad you are alive."

Gandalf returned the hug and then stepped back, he looked into Faramir's eyes, "Well, our fox haired ranger as grown up, in the time I have been away."

"Grown up?" Faramir asked in confusion, he saw the same confusion in the faces of others.

"Yes, grown up, into the man you should be not the man you father made you." Gandalf smiled and then turned to others. "Enough of dilly-tally, we need to go to Edoras, there is something amiss with the king. And it is not easily cured"

"And leave the hobbits?" Gimli exclaimed.

Gandalf looked at the dwarf, "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

Aragorn laughed "In one thing you have not changed, dear friend."

"Hm?"

"You still speak in riddles." Faramir answered for Aragorn.

Gandarf chuckles and continued. "A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days. The ents are going to wake up … and find that they are strong."

"Strong?!" Gimli questioned, and then a tree beside him groaned, "Oh, that's good."

"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf. Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be." Saying that the wizard took towards the edge of the forest

"This new Gandalf's grumpier than the old one." Gimli said into his beard but the others heard anyway, Legolas patted his back and took after Gandalf, Gimli followed.

Aragorn and Faramir picked up their weapons, "Well Glorfindel won't be happy." Faramir said looking after his companions.

"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked.

"He is no longer the only Balrog slayer who has returned to life." Aragorn laughed.

Suddenly Gandalf reappeared, "Are you two coming or are you intending to stay there and shatter like two old women." He raised his eyebrow then he turned and the two men followed him.

"Gimli was right." Aragorn said trying to catch up with the wizard.

"About what?"

"That this Gandalf is grumpier than the old one." Faramir laughed at that, the woods seemed brighter than before, his days seemed brighter than before. The future was less shadowy.

* * *

***"Something's out there."**

**"What do you see?"**

**A/N: I hope you liked it. In the next Chapter Faramir meets Eowyn. I have no idea, how it all will play out, the muse is telling me that I should start writing and let the characters themselves take the lead and show me where it all will go. I hope to have the next chapter up much quicker than this one.**


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